The Crooked Tree 



I 



The Crooked Tree 

(Third Edition) 

Indian Legends of Northern 
Michigan 



By JOHN C. WRIGHT 

Author of "Northern Breezes, " 
A Companion Volume to this one 



ONE DOLLAR TWENTY-FIVE CENTS 
PER COPY 



Published by 

JOHN C. WRIGHT 
HARBOR SPRINGS, MICH. 



Errs 



Copyright, 1917 
BY JOHN C. WRIGHT 
All rights reserved 




M -4 19/2 

©CI.A467271 



\ 



CONTENTS 



Page 



One Thousand Miles in a Canoe 11 

Origin of the Medicine Lodge 12 

Story of the North Star., 13 

Legend of the Sleeping Bear 15 

Scheme of an Old Squaw 16 

Gaw-be-naw, the First Man 21 

The Lost Tribe of Michigan 23 

Na-na-bo-jo, the Ottawa Hiawatha 29 

After the Deluge 29 

Legend of the Great Lakes 30 

Formation of Mackinac Island 31 

Joke of the Choke Cherries 31 

The Chicago-e-sheeg-or "Wild Onion" 31 

Fooled by His Two Wives 32 

Why the Weather is so Changeable 33 

The Golden Age at L'Arbre Croche 36 

The Indian Who Aspired to be a Priest 39 

Legend of the Proud Princess 43 

Indian Magic • 46 

Selecting Names for the Indians 49 

The Toad Woman 53 

Why the Pine Trees Weep 59 

Rapid Transit in the Early Day 62 

An Indian Lawsuit 67 

How the Indians Selected a Picture for the Altar 72 

Legend of the Motchi Manitou 75 

The Treaty Payment 80 

The Great Feast of the Ottawas 84 

Outwitting a White Man 87 

The Flight of "Rising Sun" (Petoskey) 91 

The Great Fight Between the Clans 99 

Last of the Chiefs 103 

The Strange Case of Father Weikamp 105 

Legend of the Mounds 112 

The Great Muckwah 116 

The Wise Chieftain of Bay View 120 

The Indian Company 122 

"King of the Star" or Legend of Mackinac Island 125 

Superstitions of the Strawberry and Blackberry 130 

The Moccasin Flower 132 

The Hanging of Wau-goosh 133 

Why Camp Fires Crackle 136 

England's Revenge 138 

Origin of the Name "Chicago" 141 

An Incident of Early Mackinac 143 

Legend of Harbor Point 144 

Legend of the Water Lily 147 

Glossary 149 

Our Indian Nomenclature 150 



DEDICATION 



To those heroic souls, who, plunging 
into the wilderness at a remote period, 
paved the way for civilization; yet in 
many instances did their vJork without 
reward, and now lie in obscure graves, 
this volume is lovingly dedicated. 



FOREWORD. 



A tall, crooked pine tree overhanging a high 
bluff, served to designate what was probably the 
most important Indian village in the north, prior 
to the advent of the white man. "Wau-go-naw- 
ki-sa" — the Crooked Tree — could be seen for many 
miles by the occupants of approaching canoes. 
After rounding the northwestern extremity of what 
is now Emmet county, in the state of Michigan, on 
their way south, it was a familiar sight, and one 
that never failed to bring exultations of joy from 
the brave and daring Ottaw^as. Just where the 
Crooked Tree stood we have been unable to ascer- 
tain; but tradition says it was in the vicinity of 
Middle Village of the present day. According to 
the legend it was bent by Na-na-bo-jo. Formerly 
it was straight, but as the great hunter and chief- 
tain was climbing the hill one day at this point, 
with his canoe over his head, the end of the boat 
caught on the tree and gave him a bad fall. In 
anger he struck the tree a blow with his fist and 
bent it over. Where he hit the trunk a large swell- 
ing came out, and henceforward every knot or 
growth protruding from a tree was called "Na-na- 
bo-jo's Fist." 

When the French missionaries arrived upon the 
scene, they named the place "L'Arbre Croche"; 



8 



FOREWORD 



and in the course of time the whole of what is now 
Emmet county, from Harbor Springs north was 
known by that appellation. L'Arbre Croche proper 
was once the center of missionary operations ex- 
tending over a wide territory, and was the largest 
Indian village in the region of the Great Lakes. It 
was situated at a point now called Middle Village, 
where a mission was established in the latter part 
of the seventeenth century. * 

In later years the name L'Arbre Croche was 
applied to the mission at Harbor Springs. 

I am sure that one cannot visit the site of the 
famous old village without being thrilled with in- 
spirations of nature or overcome by a feeling of 
sadness at the memories of a departed race. The 
very trees and stones seem to speak with living 
tongues of the glory of bygone days, filling the soul 
with vivid impressions of the place that early asso- 
ciation made so dear to the heart of the red man. 
The delightfully fringed valley and flats below the 
high hill and along the beach cannot be surpassed 
for beauty and loveliness of landscape anywhere on 
the western hemisphere. Shady nooks and leafy 

* A church was built here prior to 1695— the first permanent mission 
on the lower peninsula of Michigan. It was called 'The Jesuit College 
ot LArbPe Croche." Ju^t recently its exact location was discovered, 
bome of the foundation still exists, deeply buried in the sand. It stood 
about a mile south of the present Caholic church at Middle Village, 
surrounded by an extensive cemetery. 

According to the best information obtainable, the Crooked Tree was 

!wl r° ne " qi i ar !f r , mil ? n ° rth of the Good Hart Postoffice, where the 
shore hne extends farthest out into Lake Michigan 



FOREWORD 



9 



bowers, where the Indian lover wooed his sweet- 
heart and told the old, old story over again as song- 
birds caroled in the branches above, are in evidence 
on every hand; while long lanes and mossy paths 
penetrate the forests in all directions. Standing on 
the shore at the close of day, the magnificent sunset 
so renowned in this northern country can be seen 
in all its glory, filling the earth and sky with its 
splendor and majesty. Verily, the American Indian 
had a keen appreciation of the beauties of nature. 

Annually ^thousands 'of pleasure-seekers, tourists 
and resorters from all parts of the globe roam the 
paths and forests of L'Arbre Croche, picking up 
mementoes and enjoying the delightful scenery and 
balmy atmosphere. The fascinating charm of the 
whole region gives one an additional zest to learn 
something of the legends and traditions that have 
been current among its people from time imme- 
morial. To fill this want, such of the L'Arbre 
Croche stories as the writer has been able to gather 
from reliable and indisputable sources are now 
offered to the public for the first time. Legends, 
myths, grotesque and ludicrous tales, based upon 
superstition or imagination, as well as those relat- 
ing to historical incidents, all had a part in the life 
of the aborigines of L'Arbre Croche, and are here 
set down precisely as related by the Indians them- 
selves or by others familiar with their manners and 
customs. 

John C Wright. 



GREETINGS — 1917. 

Although the Arbre Croche and Mack- 
inac countries are so closely allied in 
every way that any work relating to one 
is almost certain to be of interest to the 
other; yet in order to make the present 
edition of "The Crooked Tree" more 
genuinely representative of the entire 
Northern Lake Region, it has been con- 
siderably enlarged to include additional 
material pertaining to the Fairy Island 
■which was said to be the earthly abode of 
the Great Manitou, 



ONE THOUSAND MILES IN A CANOE. 



In the year 1800 a little girl was born on the 
banks of Grand river, in the vicinity of what is now 
the village of Muir. Her father was a noted French 
trader and her mother an Indian princess, or daugh- 
ter of a chief. At that period the Grand river 
valley was one of the most beautiful regions in the 
whole country, as indeed it is today; and the little 
girl spent many happy days playing along the shore 
or paddling in her birch bark canoe. She often 
accompanied her father on his trips, frequently 
going with him over portages and rivers as far as 
Detroit and Chicago. 

When this little girl was twelve years of age 
her father hired two trusty Indians to take her in 
a canoe from Grand River to Mackinac Island, 
whither he had preceded her. Drifting down the 
beautiful river one bright summer's day they 
emerged into Lake Michigan and turning the prow 
of their little boat northward started on their long 
journey. They put up a blanket for a sail when 
the wind was favorable, and paddled along by easy 
stages when it was calm. At night they slept by 
huge campfires, and the little princess heard many 
tales and legends of savage life. 



12 



THE CROOKED TREE 



Origin of the Medicine Lodge. 

She heard that at one time heaven and earth were 
connected by a great vine down which fairies and 
spiritual beings descended to the earth. Mortals 
were forbidden by the Great Spirit to ascend this 
vine, but once a young man became sick and in a 
delirious state climbed up far out of sight. His 
aged mother was so sad at thus losing her bov that 
she started after him, but her added weight 'broke 
the vine and both came down in a heap. Then th* 
Great Spirit was very angry with the people. 
-Now/' he said, "sickness and disease will prevail 
amongst you, and instead of living on forever you 
will die when you grow old. There is onlv one 
thing left for you to do. Remember that every- 
thing that grows has some value— nothing was 
made m vain. Therefore you will gather roots and 
herbs and compound medicines and these will help 
you when in distress." Thus was born the medi- 
cine lodge and all who were initiated into its mys- 
teries were told the above story in great detail 
wonderfully embellished. 

As the canoe proceeded on its wav its occupants 
caught glimpses of roving bands of savages and of 
deer, elk and wolves as they came down to the lake 
to drink. Eagles, wild geese and turkeys were seen 
in great numbers. 

When the canoe was caught out on the lake in 
the darkness the Indians were guided by the stars, 



THE CROOKED TREE 



13 



and one night the little girl listened with open-eyed 
wonderment to the pretty legend of the North star. 
She had a retentive memory and remembered all 
these stories. The Indians worshiped her father 
and did their best to keep their precious charge 
entertained. 

Story of the North Star. 

Not all Indians believed in marriage, they told 
her. When a brave refused to wed, others said of 
him that he belonged to the Two Cousins. This 
was because, years before, two exemplary young 
men became very fond of one another and made a 
vow never to separate. They lived with their 
grandmother who prepared their meals and dressed 
their game. But one day the old woman grew 
weary of her work, and while the young hunters 
were absent, invited two beautiful maidens from 
the south to enter the wigwam. When the young 
hunters returned she said: 

"My children, I am growing old and weak. The 
work of dressing all the game you bring is too 
great a task; therefore I have asked these two 
beautiful young women to become your wives, 
which they have consented to do." 

At first the young men knew not what to say. 
They went about their affairs as usual and made no 
effort to cultivate the company of the beautiful 
maidens. But the latter were so pleasant all the 



THE CROOKED TREE 



time that finally the younger of the hunters fell in 
love, and the next day when he and his friend 
started out again to hunt, he could scarely kill 
anything because he kept thinking of his sweet- 
heart. He secured only three bear-skins while his 
cousin took twenty-one. Then he .confessed that 
he intended to return home and get married. 

"If that is the case, I shall leave and never set 
foot this way again," said the other. 

His friend tried to dissuade him, but he started 
off towards the north. 

"Although I leave you," he said, "remember, if 
you are ever alone at night and need a friend, you 
will see me up there in the northern heavens If 
you ever get lost in the forest or at any time cannot 
find your way in the darkness, I will always be 
there to guide your footsteps." 

True to his word, he then began to mount up 
towards the skies, where he assumed the form of a 
star; and there he is to this day— the bright North 
star-chasing the bear as was his wont in the days 
of old when he hunted through the woods of Mich- 
igan. 

The other hunter was so chagrined over the loss 
of his friend that he pined and wasted away before 
he could reach home, and became only a shadow 
Ever since that day he has roamed the hills and 
valleys and hides from every mortal being among 
the rocks and cliffs. His name is Bah-swa-way 



THE CROOKED TREE 



15 



(Echo), and he passes his time bj mocking and 
laughing at everybody. 

The two beautiful maidens waited and waited for 
the return of their lovers and finally in disappoint- 
ment arose high in the air to watch for them from 
the skies. They are the Morning and Evening 
stars. 

Day by day the little canoe advanced northward 
along the wild shores of Lake Michigan. One day 
they passed the little stream where Father Mar- 
quette had been buried. The old cross was still 
standing. 

Legend of the Sleeping Bear. 

Not long afterwards they could see the Sleeping 
Bear Point, and the little princess listened to the 
story of how in the long ago a great famine had 
spread over the land. Longingly a mother bear 
and two famished cubs walked the shore on the 
Wisconsin side, gazing wistfully at Michigan, 
which in those days was the land of plenty as it is 
today. Finally hunger overcame timidity and the 
bears launched out. Nearer and nearer approached 
the goal as the mother's words of encouragment 
urged on the weary cubs. 

When only twelve miles from the land of plenty, 
the mother's heart was rent as she saw a babe sink. 
With the remaining cub she struggled to gain the 



1( 5 THE CROOKED TREE 

beach. Two miles of slow dragging and the second 

ol her cherished ones sank. 

The mother reached the beach and crept to a 
resting place where she lay down facing the restless 
waters that covered her lost ones. As she gazed 
two beautiful islands slowly rose to mark the 
graves These were called the Manitous-the 
home of the departed spirits. 

The little princess watched the Sleeping Bear 
which was very real in those days, until they 
passed out of sight. 

After awhile they came to a most beautiful in- 
dentation of the coast line-Grand Traverse bay 
iney cut across this to save many miles of travel 
and camped for the night near Pine river (now 
Charlevoix). The little girl was not 
sad; she was jovial and unafraid. There was real 
adventure, excitement and lots of fun, too. The 
Indians told many amusing tilings. They were not 
stoical, sullen nor cruel. They saw humor in every- 
thing. They told their little passenger of the 
scheme of the old squaw who wished to appear 
young. rr 

The Scheme of an Old Squaw. 

An old woman, wrinkled and decrepit, was seized 
by the strange hallucination that she still possessed 
charms sufficient to attract the young men of her 
village. In this belief she dressed up in her best 



THE CROOKED TREE 



17 



skins and furs and sat down by her wigwam door, 
smiling and accosting the young braves as they 
passed along. Of course none of them paid any 
attention to her. Then some of the maidens of the 
tribe, noticing her foolish behavior, went to the old 
woman and said: 

"Look here, Nokomis" (grandmother) ; "you are 
old and wrinkled, and your beauty has all faded 
like that of the dead flowers of the forest. No 
young man will ever be attracted to your wigwam. 
You may as well cease all your efforts and live 
quietly and peacefully, calmy awaiting the end. 
Your days are numbered; your beauty gone — you 
nevermore can be like one of us." 

At these words the old woman became furious. 
"Be gone!'' she said, to her tormentors. "Til show 
you whether I am too old or not!" 

Then taking a string made from basswood bark, 
she tied it to the lower part of one of her ears and 
passing it around the back of her head, drew it taut 
and looped it over the lobe of the other ear, fasten- 
ing it securely. In this way she drew all the 
wrinkles out of her face; and oiling her hair nicely 
with a mixture of pounded charcoal and grease and 
drawing it down over the string so the latter could 
not show, she sat down in the glow of her campfire 
and waited. The soft light shining on her features 
which were now smooth and perfect, made her look 
beautiful indeed. 



18 



THE CROOKED TREE 



_ The first young man to pass that way was imme- 
diately fascinated by her appearance, and sat down 
to visit. The old woman regaled him with mam- 
stories and charmed him completely with her won- 
derful conversation. The next night, and the next 
following that, found the young man again at the 
wigwam of the old woman; while several maidens 
having heard of the strange affair, approached and 
gazed on wonderingly from a distance. They could 
not understand the situation at all. 

On the third evening, however, while the old 
woman, beaming with smiles, was talking and mak- 
ing gestures, the string behind her ears suddenly 
snapped and her face became a mass of wrinkles 
even worse than before. 

The young brave jumped to his feet horror- 
stricken and bounded out of the wigwam, while 
the maidens fairly rolled on the ground with laugh- 
ter. The young man would probably be running 
yet had he not met a beautiful girl whom he cap- 
tivated and then led in honor to his wigwam. 

The next day our travellers reached Bear river, 
now Petoskey. There was no settlement on the 
shore at that time, but there was an Indian village 
at Bear lake, the source of Bear river (now Walloon 
lake). They tarried only a little while, then 
crossed Little Traverse bay to the harbor on the 
north side, called by the Indians Wequetonsing. 
Here there was only a little high ground and but 



THE CROOKED TREE 



19 



one wigwam. Farther up the shore, however, was 
a very large village, the famous Crooked Tree, or 
L'Arbre Croche of the early French. There our 
friends were well received and stopped a whole 
day. Many stories were related and the little 
princess heard the wonderful tradition of Petoskey 
and the discovery of the Happy Hunting Grounds. 

The next day the voyagers started on what they 
supposed to be the last lap of their journey. When 
they arrived at Mackinac the British had invaded 
the island and a battle was momentarily expected. 
All was excitement. The little girl along with all 
the women and children of the island was placed 
in an old abandoned distillery on the west side for 
safety. But her father, who thought worlds of his 
daughter, not knowing what might happen, asked 
the two Indians if they would not take her on to 
St. Paul, Minn., where her oldest brother was con- 
ducting a trading post. At first they refused to 
undertake so perilous a trip, but his offer was so 
generous that finally they consented. 

Skirting the northern shore of the lake over pre- 
cisely the route traveled by Pere Marquette, they 
entered Green Bay, passed through the Fox and 
Wisconsin rivers and floated out upon the broad 
bosom of the Mississippi. They passed through a 
hostile country where at times they dared not 
speak above a whisper for fear of being discovered. 
Their adventures and experiences were many, but 



THE CROOKED TREE 



at last the faithful Indians and their protege 
reached St. Paul in safety. There the little girl re- 
mained a few years and then returned to Mackinac 
over the same route. She was adopted by the 
famous Madam LaFramboise and received a liberal 
education in French. Afterwards she taught school 
at St. Ignace for fifteen years. She once enter- 
tained President Zachary Taylor; knew School- 
craft, the historian, and Beaumont, the famous 
physician; she was personally acquainted with nu- 
merous Indian chiefs, sachems and medicine men- 
she met "King" Strang, Governor Cass and many 
other notables. She was at home with bishops 
scholars and statesmen and was the friend of all. 

This little girl with her remarkable experiences 
and history afterward became the grandmother of 
the author and related all these stories and many 
others to him when a lad. The little girl's name 
was Sophia Bailly, and at Mackinac Island she 
married Henry G. Graveraet, Jr., the son of a Ger- 
man soldier of the American Revolution, and moved 
to Little Traverse (now Harbor Springs), just 
previous to the Civil war. From here she often 
visited the old Indian village of LArbre Croche 
where she mingled with the natives and listened 
attentively to their tales. 



THE CROOKED TREE 21 



GAW-BE-NAW, THE FIRST MAN. 

The first among the Indians of L'Arbre Croche 
in story and tradition was Gaw-be-naw. He was 
said to be the first man created by the Gitchi Man- 
itou (Great Spirit). He ruled over the land afrd 
the sea; named all the animals; taught the people 
how to plant and make gardens; how to hunt and 
fish; how to build wigwams and canoes; how to 
count; how to make clothing from the skins of wild 
animals; and many, many other things. He was 
a prophet, philosopher, seer and natural born leader. 

The snowshoe, bow and arrow, stone tomahawk, 
pe-no-gawn, "warm winter house/' and all such de- 
vices and inventions were said to have been intro- 
duced by Gaw-be-naw. Volumes could be written 
of his genius and prowess. No task was too diffi- 
cult for him to accomplish, no obstacle too great for 
this wonderful man to overcome. He was greatly 
beloved by the Great Spirit, who favored him in all 
things. 

Gaw-be-naw lived for a great many years — how 
long nobody knows. During the early part of his 
reign all the people were happy; there were no 
wars, no dissensions — no trouble of any kind. As 
he grew old and approached the end of his career, 
however, a great dro$£h and famine spread over 
the earth. This was s4pt as a punishment to Gaw- 
be-naw, who foolishly thinking himself all powerful 
in his advanced years, tried to make the crops grow 



22 THE CROOKED TREE 

without consulting the Great Spirit. In vain Gaw- 
be-naw fasted and prayed for rain, so that the 
people would not die of starvation. No rain came 
and at last Gaw-be-naw said he would journey to 
the realm of the Great Spirit and intercede for' the 
people in person. 

He traveled many, many days, and at last came 
to the dwelling place of the Ruler of Creation, who 

ScLlQ . 

"Gaw-be-naw, my child, you have been very dis- 
obedient I have made you ruler over the land and 
sea; but I alone have power over the sun and moon 
to make the crops grow and the trees to bear fruit 
But though you have displeased me I will have 
compassion on my people. Hereafter Ah-nim-o-kee 
will sit at my side and when rain is needed he will 
beat upon his drum. When he pounds with his 
drumstick, thunder will roll over the earth; when 
he opens his eyes, lightning will flash; and the 
people will rejoice, for it will be a sign that I will 
send water to moisten the ground so that grain will 
grow m abundance and famine will no longer 
occur 8 



So, away past the rivers and mountains, far far 
beyond the seas-much farther than man has since 
traveled sits an old warrior with his back toward 
die earth, Ah-nim-o-kee, the Thunderer, who at a 
signal from the Great Spirit beats upon his drum 
and flashes his eyes and thus brings the rain to 
revive and nourish vegetation. 



THE CROOKED TREE 



23 



THE LOST TRIBE OF MICHIGAN. 

The origin of the American Indian has been a 
subject of speculation and conjecture ever since 
Columbus discovered the new world. The Shaw- 
nees had a tradition that their ancestors crossed the 
ocean, while other tribes claimed that the race had 
its beginning in the great northwest. Certain racial 
characteristics indicate that the Indians descended 
from the Chinese, some of whom may have crossed 
into Alaska at a remote period. As related by the 
historian Shea, one of the early American mis- 
sionaries, Father Grelon, afterwards went to China. 
While traveling through the plains of Tartary, he 
met a Huron woman whom he had known on the 
shores of the Great Lakes. Having been sold from 
tribe to tribe, she had reached the interior of Asia. 
There on the steppes of that distant land she related 
the wonderful story to her aged pastor. It was this 
fact that first led to the knowledge of the near 
approach of America to Asia. Again, the venera- 
tion of the wild Indian for the root of the gentian 
plant was almost identical to that of the Chinese. 

Indeed there are some ethnologists who claim 
that America was the first continent to be inhabited 
and that Asia and Europe received their original 
population from this source. They produce geo- 
logical proofs for such a contention. But these 
many speculations only lead us on and on into the 
realm of conjecture. The great outstanding fact is 



24 THE CROOKED TREE 

that when the white man came the Indian was here 
and had many interesting legends and traditions. 

The first traces we find of the Ottawas are near 
the river that bears their name in Canada. Belong- 
ing to the Algonquin stock, they early engaged in 
warfare with the Iroquois Confederation or Five 
Nations by whom they were eventually driven 
westward. Crossing into Michigan at the Sault 
Ste. Mane river, they came in contact with the 
Chippewas (or Ojibways), with whom they formed 
a strong alliance. The two tribes were much alike 
m manners and customs and freely intermingled, 
together they journeyed southward, crossing the 
Straits of Mackinaw, and by mutual consent the 
Ottawas occupied what is now Emmet county and 
founded their village of Wau-go-naw-ki-sa, or "The 
Crooked Tree." 

Farther south they came in contact with the 
Potawattamies, another similar and friendly people 
and the three tribes formed a strong alliance and 
styled themselves the "Three Brothers." Together 
they practically controlled what is now the state of 
Michigan-the Chippewas. the upper peninsula; the 
Uttawas, the islands and region south of the Straits 
of Mackinaw as far as Grand river; the Pota- 
wattamies, the southern portion. Of course, there 
were a number of other tribes, such as the Hurons 
the Miamis, etc., but as a rule they did not reach 
tar north. Away to the west were the savage 



COUNCIL TREE AT TALBOT HEIGHTS NEAR 
BLISS FARM 

Many councils were held around this famous tree in ancient 
times. One of the largest Indian gatherings in 
history took place there in 1787. Twenty 
tribes were represented. 



\ 

THE CROOKED TREE 



23 



Sioux; to the east, the equally blood-thirsty Iro- 
quois; and between the two the 'Three Brothers" 
vacillated with varying degrees of success. At one 
time the powerful Iroquois cleared the lower pen- 
insula of their enemies as far as the shores of Lake 
Michigan. At another time, about the year 1671, 
the Ottawas on the warpath against the Sioux, 
secured a large supply of arms and ammunition at 
Montreal; were joined by the Hurons of Mackinac 
and the Sac and Fox Indians of Green Bay, marched 
through northern Wisconsin — a well-armed body of 
over a thousand warriors — and confidently attacked 
the enemy in the St. Croix valley. Utterly de- 
feated, they retreated through the snow-covered 
woods, amidst sufferings and privation that equal 
those of the Belgians of our own day. The heavy 
loss sustained by the Hurons, who bravely covered 
the rear, was appalling, and that tribe was greatly 
reduced . The remnants of the army passed 
through the Arbre Croche country on their way 
home, and their desperate condition led them to 
acts of cannibalism. 

When the Ottawas first crossed the Straits of 
Mackinaw on their way south, the territory now 
comprised in the county of Emmet was occupied by 
a small tribe of peaceful Indians, known as the Mush- 
quah-tas, or Underground Indians, so named because 
they were said to have come from the West, where 
they formerly lived in caves. They had gardens and 



THE CROOKED TREE 



comfortable houses and their principal village was 
located at least five miles from the coast, so as not 
to be exposed to warlike tribes traveling along the 
lake. They welcomed the Ottawas and smoked with 
them the pipe of peace. But trouble soon arose 
which resulted disastrously for the peaceful Mush- 
quah-tas and provides the only case recorded in the 
annals ot Indian warfare where an entire tribe of 
several hundred members, together with the women 
and children, was totally exterminated in one terrific 
onslaught. 

. The Ottawas were in the habit of going on long 
journeys of conquest, in which they often secured 
many captives and much plunder from vanquished 
tribes. These forays were very displeasing to their 
-Uush-quah-ta neighbors, who absolutely refused to 
aid them in any of their battles. After an unsuc- 
cessful raid against the Sacs in Wisconsin, in which 
they had suffered considerable loss, the Ottawas re- 
turned home one summer's evening, loud with wails 
and lamentations. As they passed the Mush-quah- 
ta village, some of the young men who were loung- 
ing about laughed at them and told them their 
punishment was well deserved; these young men 
also foolishly pelted them with balls of wet sand 
and ashes wrapped up in forest leaves. 

This was an insult which no self-respecting Ot- 
tawa could endure unchallenged. Sullenly the 
mourners made their way homeward, stung to the 



THE CROOKED TREE 



27 



quick by the treatment of their neighbors. Hur- 
riedly summoning a war council, they decided to 
attack the Mush-quah-tas that night. 

An Ottawa maiden, who had fallen in love with 
a brave of the doomed tribe, discovered the plan 
and resolved to warn the Mush-quah-tas of their 
impending fate. Leaving her wigwam at dusk, she 
undertook to reach the Mush-quah-ta village by a 
circuitous route, but was detected, overtaken and 
strangled by two powerful warriors. 

As night came on the dark forms of the plumed 
and painted Ottawas drew close to the wigwams 
of the sleeping and unsuspecting Mush-quah-tas. 
Not a sound could be heard except the occasional 
hooting of an owl or the scurrying of some furry 
creature through the underbrush. Suddenly with 
a chorus of deafening yells and uplifted tomahawks 
the Ottawas rushed upon their enemies and began 
the attack. The Mush-quah-tas, taken at a disad- 
vantage, could offer but feeble resistance. Startled 
from their peaceful slumber in the dead of night, 
they bravely reached for their war clubs in a des- 
perate effort to defend themselves. The older men 
leaped in front of their wives and children and re- 
ceived the fatal blow while protecting their loved 
ones; the young men made heroic efforts to save 
mothers, sisters and sweethearts. But it was too 
late. Bleeding and dying they went down on all 
sides under the telling blows of the victorious Otta- 



THE CROOKED TREE 



was. The lost tribe had incurred the enmity of a 
powerful nation and had to pay the penalty ' Only 
one or two escaped, who, with a few families living 
farther south, journeyed to the present site of St 
Joseph, .Mich., where they again established them- 
selves. 

Later when firearms were introduced among the 
Indians, the Ottawas, in a desire to try their effect- 
iveness m battle, hunted up their old enemies, the 
-Mush-quah-tas and exterminated those who had 
escaped from the former massacre. Thus the re- 
venge of the injured Ottawas was decisive and com- 
plete and the name Mush-quah-ta became a syno- 
nym for scorn and contempt. 




QftEF PETOSKET 



INDIAN MISSION CHURCH 

Built about 1833 and still standing 
at Petoskey. Oldest public build- 
ing in northern Michigan south 
of the Straits of Mackinaw. 



THE CROOKED TREE 



29 



NA-NA-BO-JO, THE OTTAWA HIAWATHA. 



Xa-na-bo-jo was a great chieftain with super- 
natural powers. He performed many marvelous 
feats and a number of the great natural wonders of 
the country are ascribed to his ingenuity, Never- 
theless to the Indians of L/Arbre Croche and to the 
Algonquin tribes generally Xa-na-bo-jo was a ludi- 
crous character. In many of his pranks he acted 
the part of a clown; most all his episodes were of a 
humorous nature and generally he was the subject 
of his own joke. It is hard to understand this char- 
acter in Indian mythology. While ascribing to him 
unheard-of and wonderful abilities, the Indians ridi- 
culed Xa-na-bo-jo and laughed at all of his accom- 
plishments. He must not be confused with the 
Gitchi Manitou, or Great Spirit, of whom the In- 
dians never spoke except with reverence and great 
respect. Xa-na-bo-jo was regarded as a buffoon. 

After the Deluge 

Many Indian tribes had a tradition regarding a 
great deluge that once submerged this continent. 
The Ottawas of L'Arbre Croche say that when 
Xa-na-bo-jo saw that the water had covered all the 
land and there was no place for him to set his foot, 
he caught a muskrat and sent him to the bottom of 
the sea to bring up some earth. The little animal 



returned with as much sand as it could ca - l 
tween its paws, which it deposited at Xa-n b ■ ' 
feet. This it continued to do until an isl d 
formed. Na-na-bo-jo made a man out ^ ^ 
ground, which he animated with his b th a 
again populated the earth. ' ^ 

Leg-end ::' the Great Likes 

As this dent: -god wa = walking alone th h 
of Lake Michigan :ne dav ~h of food 

came to a patch of a certain kind of sea - d h 
he greatly rehshed. He gorged Jumself^ W- 
favorite dish and lay down to rest He" slept 3 for a 
long time, until the water, by its gradual move- 
ment, had nearly submerged him, and awoke iut 
m time to save himself from a watery grave He 
was highly incensed at this action of the water 
and, rising to his full height, extended his h rT 
over the lake and said: 5 

"Hereafter, that you may fool no one else in this 
manner, you will become smaller and smalls Z« 
you are as a draught of water in the palm of mv 



rec 



J«M ±a A ^ e Wat£r * the Great ^s has 
needed, and it is believed that the day will come 

to show^ ** ^ ^ *** ** ^ 
to show where the lakes existed. 



THE CROOKED TREE 



31 



Formation of Mackinac Island 

Coming to the Straits of Mackinaw, Na-na-bo-jo 
was at a loss to know how to cross. After ponder- 
ing some time he decided to build a bridge, which 
he made from rocks that he picked up along the 
shore. After he had crossed over, a big wind 
arose and upset the bridge. The debris sticking up 
out of the water formed Mackinac, Round and Bois 
Blanc islands. 

Joke of the Choke Cherries 

Going into the interior of the country, Na-na- 
bo-jo soon came to a beautiful river on whose un- 
ruffled and smooth surface he saw great bunches 
of delicious red cherries. Bending over to procure 
them, he plunged into the water head foremost, for 
what he had mistaken for cherries were in reality 
only their reflection from a tree above. Tearing 
the tree up by the roots he threw it far to one side, 
exclaiming : 

"Tawa tah! Hereafter your fruit will be black 
and will parch the throat of whoever eats it." 
These are the wild choke cherries. 

The Chicago-e-sheeg or "Wild Onion" 

After a long and painful march through the 
forest he became very weary and hungry, for he 
had been unable to kill any game. Coming to a 
patch of leeks, or wild onions, which at that time 



52 



were verv 



7 -ee: a::: palatable., be feasted hirtself 



uuwcver, w 
ah ! It's the o:ii< 



Out a. lime distance. ] 

"Tawa 

Then P 
and said: 

"You w 
longer be 



rac gone 
-c v.-as gripped 



0::c u ? ::e Patched it disdainfully 
trong and no 



Ld-.c ana sine.. 



Fooled by His Two Wiv 



>cre so a: 

either side. 

his faceli: 
to your hea 



es 



^*- cG --cme. w::ere he had been 
----5 two wives because they 
t^r^---s mea.s. But upon 
met at tne door, one on 

------- v,: - : ^-- t::ey ne.d olose to 

-mir mea. is a., ready, now eat 



Xa- 



tan. he exclaimed. 'T see you 



Thereafter Xa 



even- 



j< C. - . 

master. 



sm::es. "Tawa 
re good wives and 

* wives enjoyed 
T '~zs promoted in 
~>~s looking care- 
: their krd and 



THE CROOKED TREE 33 



WHY THE WEATHER IS SO CHANGEABLE. 



As those who live around the Great Lakes are 
aware, this region of the country is noted for its 
changeable climate. It is common to hear the ex- 
pression that Michigan has a dozen different 
weathers in a day. It has always been so, as far 
back as there are any records to show, and the 
Indians account for this changeableness of climate 
by a story they tell regarding Na-na-bo-jo and his 
brother Pee-puck-e-wis. 

These two once ran a foot race from the far 
south, and from the very start, as was the case in 
all contests in which he ever had a part, Na-na- 
bo-jo took the lead. As customary he was happy 
and pleasant wherever he showed himself, and all 
nature smiled as he ran along; the sun shone 
brightly and the birds greeted him with merry 
songs; little girls threw flowers in his pathway; the 
squirrels, deer and bears and all animals of the woods 
came out and gambolled in happiness, saying: "Here 
comes Na-na-bo-jo, our friend, who makes the pleas- 
ant weather." 

All summer long he kept advancing northward 
and every day was warm and bright and there were 
no signs of frost or any disturbance in the atmos- 
phere. As the contest proceeded Pee-puck-e-wis, 
who was angry at being so easily outdistanced, 



THE CROOKED TREE 



redoubled his efforts and began to catch up. Then 
he noticed that everywhere that Na-na-bo-jo went 
the weather was beautiful, the flowers bloomed the 
birds sang and nothing interfered with his prog- 
ress He became very jealous and decided to 
punish the earth and put a stop to his brother's 
pleasant journey. So he scooped water up in his 
hand and threw it in the air and called on the winds 
to aid him in making bad weather. He first asked 
the south wind to blow a hot, arid wave that would 
parch the land and dry up all vegetation; then he 
asked the east wind to bring the rain and cause 
floods and rivers to overflow; as he came along he 
made the clouds gather to obscure the sun, so that 
Na-na-bo-jo had difficulty in finding his way But 
at intervals the latter would look back and smile 
and the clouds would move aside and allow the sun 
to shine. Then Pee-puck-e-wis called on the west 
wind to bring frost and hail and sleet. By this 
time Na-na-bo-jo had reached the Great Lakes and 
needed rest. So he camped on the shore of Lake 
Michigan, where he arrived some time in the month 
of October. Then there was a spell of beautiful 
weather again, when the leaves were turning to red 
and gold. A sort of hazy, smoky atmosphere set- 
tled over the earth, and for a time Na-na-bo-jo 
rested and had peace— it was the period of the 
glorious Indian summer. But his brother soon 
located him, and called on the fierce north wind to 



THE CROOKED TREE 35 



bring the snow and cold, and Na-na-bo-jo had to 
hurry on. Occasionally he would look back and 
smile, and this would always bring forth the sun- 
shine; but his brother, now close upon his heels, in 
anger kept calling on the different winds to blow 
and bluster, and thus it continued until the con- 
testants turned and passed to the far west. 

Whenever the climatic changes were particularly 
frequent and noticeable, the Indians always ex- 
claimed: "Na-na-bo-jo and Pee-puck-e-wis are near 
by, running their race!" 



^ THE CROOKED TREE 

THE GOLDEN AGE AT L'ARBRE CROCHE. 



Shortly after the Mush-qua-ta 
Croche grew to be a veritable 
the neighboring settlements and 
along the coast., it numbered many hZd^fe 
habitants, and became the capital so to speak, or 
central point from which all activities in the north 
were directed. At the time of Pontiac's Conspiracy 
the great chieftain was informed that L'VS-e 
Croche would furnish him with nearly 500 warriors 
—a promise which no doubt would have been kept 
had not a jealous feeling been aroused by the Chip- 
pewas attacking Fort Mackinaw without first con- 
sulting the chief of L'Arbre Croche. So populous 
was the settlement at one time that an Indian 
might walk a distance of fully twenty miles along- 
the shore and find a wigwam 
Through excavations 

articles and weapons of copper have Wr. ' A'^Zj! 

r ^^t t^- L na\c ueen discov- 

ered, leading one to the belief that an even M 
occupancy connected this region with the 
deposits of Lake Superior. wpper 

Many ancient c 
orchards in the r& 

attest to the golden age that reim^*^^**^* 
simple people at a later period. Careful in esti 
convinces us :ha? t^e-e w?; - - ---"V.- ~T-~ 



ever 



.. d . 



CM 

3 



THE CROOKED TREE 37 



ical comfort, moral culture and social and domestic 
happiness among them far exceeding what most 
people might imagine. Houses of mats, bark and 
split timber were substantially made and proved 
not uncomfortable; the "ah-go-beem-wa-gun" was 
a small summer house for young men, constructed 
on an elevated platform, and reached by a ladder. 

The "o-dup-pe-neeg," native potato, and many 
varieties of wild fruits and berries grew in great 
abundance; low marshy places furnished rushes, 
reeds and tough, fibrous grasses for mats and other 
household articles; sugar was obtained from the 
sap of the giant maples in the vicinity, and the bark 
of the basswood and birch trees was put to innu- 
merable uses. The hunter had to go but a few 
steps into the forest to secure as much game as he 
was able to carry home. 

The people were morally clean and their rules 
rigidly enforced. There was no swearing nor bad 
language used; aged persons were treated with 
great respect; it was the height of insult for a 
woman to step over the sleeping or prostrate form 
of a warrior, and those who did so were severely 
punished. The gardens were generally at a dis- 
tance from the village; the owners repaired to them 
at the proper season, to do their planting and other 
work, living for the time being in portable tents; 
the crops were not owned in common, but any per- 
sons needing food were always generously supplied 
by those who were more fortunate. 



38 THE CROOKED TREE 

These people were also the first and original re- 
sorters of the Great Lakes region. They spent the 
warm smnmer months ^ Qr near ^ 

LArbre Croche; the men being occupied by hunt- 
ing, fishing, in the making of weapons and pipes or 
lounging about; the women weaving beautifully 
ornamented mats in colors, made from rushes and 
bark of the slippery elm; fashioning baskets, bags 
pads, etc and attending the gardens. But when 
the cold blasts of winter began to arrive, gradually 
they migrated toward the south, stopping along the 
coast as occasion might require, and going as far 
as the hunting and trapping grounds of northern 
Indiana and Illinois. Though always attracted by 
the country immediately surrounding the Great 
Lakes, they were very active in their movements 
Indications of their journeys have been found as far 
west as the Mississippi river and even at the foot- 
hills of the Rocky Mountains. For the most part 
each season found them migrating with the birds 
and enjoying as much prosperity and happiness as 
the country was capable of producing for a people 
in their stage of development. 



THE CROOKED TREE 



39 



THE INDIAN WHO ASPIRED TO BE PRIEST. 



The church at L'Arbre Croche prospered under 
the guiding spirit of its first missionary. After a 
few months his visits became frequent, and finally 
he took up his abode permanently among the people 
he had learned to love. When not occupied by his 
clerical duties, he visited the Indians in their wig- 
wams and houses, assisting them in various ways, 
besides instructing them in the arts of peace. 

Among other things, he became greatly interested 
in watching the men and women manufacture dif- 
ferent articles from birch bark. From this com- 
modity they made canoes, buckets, wigwams and 
many utensils for the home. The beauty of its 
texture and the many layers into which it cculd be 
separated suggested to him the idea of making 
fancy articles to be ottered for sale in the marts of 
commerce. He accordingly told the Indians to 
color porcupine quills in gorgeous hues, make up 
many different kinds and sizes of boxes and work 
out flowers on the bark. Together with a collec- 
tion of mats, basswood bark bags, etc., he proposed 
taking these things with him the following spring 
on a trip to Paris. There he would exhibit the 
articles and endeavor to establish a regular market 
for such wares. The Indians went to work with a 
will and turned out many beautiful specimens of 
their handiwork. 



40 THE CROOKED TREE 

_ During these winter days and evenings the mis- 
sionary became particularly attached to one young 
man who seemed to excel in whatever he attempted 
to do Moreover he had a thirst for the white man's 
knowledge, which was an admirable trait The 
missionary provided him with books and "papers 
and taught him the rudiments of the French lan- 
guage. He learned rapidly, became the priest's 
assistant in all his work and was a trusted and 
faithful servant. He had been baptized by the name 
of Joseph, but this name not being readily pro- 
nounced by the natives, it was corrupted into 
^Zozep, and he was known to all by that cogno- 

Finally the time arrived for the missionary to 
depart on his visit to his beloved France. The In- 
dians in their enthusiasm had manufactured many 
more articles than he could possibly take with him • 
m fact, there were more than ten persons could 
have earned in those days of primitive transporta- 
tion facilities, F 

He made a careful selection of the best, however 
and told them to keep the rest until his return' 
Before departing he called Zozep to one side and 
gave him instructions as to what he should do dur- 
ing his absence. He proposed to leave his flock in 
the young man's care, and appealed to him to do 
the best he could to minister to his people's wants 
and keep them in the right path. 



< 



< 
u 



in 



THE CROOKED TREE 41 



Zozep promised faithfully to do what his good 
father requested. So he was given the keys of the 
church and the parish house, along with many 
fervent blessings, and the missionary seemed highly 
pleased that he could leave his affairs in such good 
hands. After bidding adieu to each one, and mak- 
ing a final admonition to Zozep to look after every- 
thing in a proper manner, he embarked in a canoe 
with several Indian escorts, to begin his long voy- 
age by the way of Montreal. 

About a year elapsed after the missionary's de- 
parture, without any word from him, when sud- 
denly the village was thrown into a great state of 
excitement by the arrival of an Indian runner from 
Mackinac, who brought word that the priest had 
returned and would arrive at L'Arbre Croche in a 
few days. At the appointed time his canoe could 
be seen approaching the shore, but when he set foot 
on land, only one or two Indians were on hand to 
greet him, and the village seemed almost deserted, 
although he had brought many presents with him 
and had much to tell the people. 

When he asked about the others, he was told that 
they were all attending church. 

"You then have another missionary," he said. 
"Has one come during my absence?" 

"Oh, no," replied the Indians, "they are listening 
to Zozep." 

Forthwith the missionary made his way to the 



42 



THE CROOKED TREE 



church, and on entering, beheld Zozep attired in 
clerical vestments, standing in the pulpit and ex- 
pounding the gospel in his native tongue. 

As soon as the missionary could recover from his 
surprise, he asked an Indian standing near him, how 
long this had been going on. 

He was then informed that Zozep had been 
preaching regularly for several months; had also 
been hearing confessions and imposing penance* 
_^ The priest threw up his hands in holy horror 
Summoning Zozep, he reprimanded him severely 
and demanded an explanation of his strange con- 
duct. 

Zozep, smiling blandly, said he thought he was 
only doing as the priest would like to have him. 
He had considered it his duty to take full charge of 
affairs and had told the Indians to be good and 
threatened them with severe punishment if they 
disobeyed. Strange as it may seem, the Indians 
had listened attentively to his sermons and appar- 
ently had great confidence in him. 

As usual the missionary forgave his protege, and 
it has been said, laughed heartily over the affair 
when the young man was not present. Even after 
that, Zozep was called on to "make a talk" occa- 
sionally, but it is not recorded that he was ever 
again allowed to hear confessions or don the priest's 
vestments, 



THE CROOKED TREE 



43 



LEGEND OF THE PROUD PRINCESS. 

The Indians of L'Arbre Croche had a broad ap- 
preciation of humor, especially the kind which 
placed some despised or hated person in an embar- 
rassing or humiliating predicament. It is said that 
the braves laughed uproariously as they gathered 
about the camp fires of an evening and listened to 
some old squaw relate the following story: 

A certain chief had an only daughter, who, by 
reason of her lofty position, became very proud. 
She held her head on high and looked with disdain 
on all the other people of the village, for she 
thought none of them good enough to associate 
with her. She said if she ever got married it would 
have to be with a worthy chief of some other tribe. 

Late one afternoon in her self-imposed seclusion 
she withdrew to the rear of her wigwam, where in 
a spirit of amusement she made the image of a man 
out of mud and clay. 

"There," said she, after finishing the figure, "you 
are just as good as all the other men around here. 
It is indeed strange that such a beautiful creature 
as I am could make such a homely and ugly look- 
ing thing. I can assure you that if you were alive 
I would never become your wife." And giving it 
a poke of derision she ran laughingly into the tent. 

But the cold air of evening coming on, made the 
image rigid, and feeling its strength, it suddenly 
stood erect — a full plumed warrior. 



THE CROOKED TREE 



Tawa tah !" he exclaimed. "How bracing is the 
cold air. It has made me a great and strong man" 
Then thanking the Manitou of the locality for 
conferring this wonderful favor upon him, he ad- 
vanced to the wigwam. Opening the flap he cau- 
tiously entered and asked to see the chief's daugh- 
ter. & 

Her mother, taken by surprise at seeing such a 
handsome man, hastily summoned the young 
woman, saying, "Put on your best garments, my 
daughter, and be as polite as possible; a handsome 
man of another tribe has come to see you. Now is 
your chance-if he asks you to be his wife, do not 
refuse him." 

The girl came forward and fell immediately in 
love with the noble looking stranger. 

He told her he had come from a great distance 
to claim her and if she accepted him he would be 
obliged to ask her to return with him at once 

The girl readily agreed to his proposal; as also 
did the chief, her father. So her mother packed 
what belongings the bride could carry and the 
happy couple started on their way. 

Everything went well during the cold hours of 
the night; but when the rays of the morning sun 
began to strike and warm the hurrying brave he 
grew faint and sick at heart. 

Soon the bride, who was by this time a long dis- 
tance in the rear, came to a moccasin lying in the 
middle of the path. 



THE CROOKED TREE 



45 



"Why, that belongs to my husband/' said she, 
picking it up. "I wonder how he came to lose it?" 

A moment later she came to a legging. 

Picking that up also, she traveled on perplexed. 

Then in succession she came to his other belong- 
ings all strung along the path, first his belt, then 
his shirt, bow and arrows and war club. 

"My goodness, what can have happened to him?" 
she said to herself. 

Soon she stumbled over a foot, then a leg, and at 
last all huddled up in a little heap was the mud and 
clay that she had moulded together in the image of 
a man. 

Then she remembered what she had said when 
she made it, and felt humiliated beyond expression. 
Turning back, she retreated shame-facedly to her 
parents' wigwam. 

All the young men of the village, having heard of 
the affair, were lined up to greet her. As she ap- 
peared, they laughed and hooted. For days after- 
wards she felt so ashamed she would not show 
herself. 

Her experience cured her of her folly, and she 
became convinced that the young men of her tribe 
were fully as good as those of any other. She mar- 
ried the first one who proposed to her, who hap- 
pened to be about as homely a man as there was in 
the neighborhood, but they lived very happily 
together. 



46 



THE CROOKED TREE 



INDIAN MAGIC. 



There were many feats of magic performed by 
the ot L 'Arbre Croche that were truly 

marvelous Orders and societies were maintained 
m which there were different degrees of proficiency, 
and the secrets were carefully guarded by the 
magicians and medicine men. 

Two feats were commonly practised, in which 
the magic men were so adept that their' fame trav- 
eled tar and wide, and others considered them little 
less than supernatural beings. The first was the 
^ge-shaking." and the other sko-da- 
ivianitou-ka-wm. or "going in fire." 

In the lodge-shaking feat, the performer, usually 
an old man. would seat himself in the center of a 

on all side, so that the spectators could see that no 
cue touched it m any way. He would begin cham- 
mg and drumrning on a tom-tom. first slowly then 
taster and faster, and finally the tent would' com- 
m " 1C 7° SWa ? ^ d ^ ^creasing irs soeed 

mth the music, until it seemed like an animate 
°^ ect » f would shake violently and sometimes the 
top would nearly touch the ground in its action 
The teat was witnessed many times by white peo- 
Ple '. and a «««nittoe of citizens appointed to in- 
vestigate the matter at Mackinac island in 1847 



THE CROOKED TREE 47 



reported that it could find no fraud in the exhibi- 
tion and therefore it must be the result of genuine 
Indian magic or witchcraft. Some of the more 
superstitious declared it was the work of the devil. 

The feat of "going in fire" was more elaborate, 
spectacular and awe-inspiring than any other. It 
had to be performed in the night time and great 
precautions were taken and wonderful preparations 
made for it. The magician would assume the form 
and don the mask of some animal, such as a bear, a 
wolf or a fox, and anoint his body with certain 
kinds of oils and extracts. Then starting on a run, 
he was said to go like the wind and become invis- 
ible, except, at intervals, when he would emit a 
bright light. The practice was usually employed 
by some evil person who wished to revenge himself 
upon an enemy. It was said that at a first visit 
from one "in fire" the victim fell sick and hardly 
ever failed to die upon the third and last visit, 
although there were medicines compounded to 
counteract the effect, which sometimes prevailed if 
taken in time. It is hard to account for this strange 
illusion, except on the theory that the liquids with 
which the body was anointed were of such a nature 
that they produced a sort of phosphorescent light 
as the person traveled along. The rest no doubt 
was the result of imagination and superstition on 
the part of the on-lookers. Nevertheless, when- 
ever an Indian spoke of "going in fire" it was with 



THE CROOKED TREE 



abated breath, and anyone claiming to be a victim 
of this strange custom would grow pale and ghastly 
at the thought, enduring all manner of mental tor- 
ture and anguish. 

The missionaries always deplored these practices 
among the Indians and did all they could to dis- 
courage them, but in spite oi their efforts the cus- 
tom^ continued for many years, and were common 
at LArbre Croche as late as 1860 and 1865. 



THE CROOKED TREE 



49 



SELECTING NAMES FOR THE INDIANS. 



Upon one occasion a large crowd assembled at the 
village to witness some of the feats of the medicine 
men. The performance continued for several days 
with great interest, so much so, in fact, that the 
priest in charge of the mission decided that some- 
thing would have to be done to counteract the 
effect. So he proposed to some of the older Indians 
that if they would abandon their work of magic, 
which was displeasing to God, he would call a big 
meeting and give each one a name, the same as the 
French and English people had, by which they 
would be known for all time after. 

The Indians assented and adjourned from their 
own meeting place to a location near the little 
church. 

After an effective and proper ceremony, the In- 
dians who wished white names seated themselves 
in a row upon the ground, Indian fashion, and the 
priest proceeded by asking the first one what name 
he preferred. 

"Maudit chien," said the Indian, in all earnest- 
ness, repeating the French words for "damn dog." 

"Oh, that is terrible!" exclaimed the good father; 
"you must never say such bad words." 

"What name do you wish?" he then asked, turn- 
ing to the next. 



50 



THE CROOKED TREE 



Sacre crapo" (cursed toad), was the reply. 

Mercy," said the priest, "I'm surprised at such 
vulgarity. I cannot give you a name like that" 
And with a look of disgust he passed on to the 
next. 

"I hope you have selected a better name than the 
others," he said. 

"Pauvre diable" (poor devil), was the replv 
"What infamy," said the priest, wringing his 
hands and passing on. 

The next Indian wished to be called "enfant de 
lenfer" (child of hell), still another asked the 
sobriquet of "tete d'escabo" (block head), and so on, 
clear around the circle. 

At length the missionary raised his hands on 
high m despair. "What can be the trouble with 
all these poor people?" he exclaimed. "Where did 
you learn such bad language? I never heard its 
equal before!" 

"Those are the words the Frenchmen use" re- 
plied the Indians, "and we supposed they were fine 
words, they use them so much. We've learned 
them all by heart, and we thought they must be 
grand names." 

"You are very wrong," said the father; "those 
are not good names but bad ones." He then ex- 
plained to them the words and their meaning, and 
afterwards selected suitable .and appropriate titles 
for all, with which they were baptized. The latter 



Whispers of Love 



THE CROOKED TREE 



51 



names are those that are still common among the 
natives of this region. 

* * * * * * * 

For many years the custom also prevailed at 
L'Arbre Croche of giving Indian names to white 
people. Those who wished to be so honored would 
state their desire to the chief and the names would 
be conferred upon them at an appointed feast with 
suitable ceremonies. The names selected by the 
Indians upon such occasions were generally very 
appropriate, often indicating the man's business or 
some peculiar trait of his character; sometimes 
they were not highly complimentary, but were al- 
ways accurate in designating the person to whom 
applied. 

A leading merchant of the village once expressed 
his desire to have an Indian name and was accord- 
ingly invited to a feast given for the purpose. This 
merchant was not particularly popular among the 
Indians, who considered him very penurious and 
inclined to be tricky in his dealings. Nevertheless 
the ceremony proceeded with much jollity and at 
last he was told that he was to be named "Bub-big." 

He was very proud of the name and repeated it 
over many times. He lost no time in telling his 
friends about it and all congratulated him upon the 
honor, because, it must be stated, only leading 
citizens, as a rule, could aspire to be thus christened 
at a public feast. 



52 THE CROOKED TREE 

But finally the thought struck him that he would 
ike to know what the name meant in the Indian 
language. He accordingly asked a native who en- 
tered his store soon after, what the word "Bub-big" 
meant. He was at cr.ce told that '•'Bub-big" meant 
flea.. ■ and though he was not as proud of his Indian 
name as berore, it clung to him ever after 



THE CROOKED TREE 
THE TOAD WOMAN. 



53 



Me-non-a-qua* came out of her wigwam, took 
the highly embroidered tick-i-naw-gun (cradle), in 
which her pretty baby was tightly laced, and hang- 
ing it on the limb of a nearby tree, started toward 
the spring a few rods distant for a pail of water. 

At that moment the face of old Muck-kuk-kee- 
qua (toad woman) peered through the bushes, and 
as Me-non-a-qua disappeared from view down the 
pathway, she quickly darted out, seized the ticki- 
nawgun with its precious contents and ran towards 
her hut across the valley. 

When Menonaqua returned and discovered that 
her baby was gone she was overcome with grief 
and set up a loud lamentation. She had carefully 
guarded the little one since its birth and had been 
enjoined by her husband, the great chief, that very 
morning, before he departed on his hunting trip, 
not to leave his son alone a moment lest he be kid- 
napped by some evil person. The child was so 
perfect and pretty it was the idol of its father. 

Menonaqua lay moaning at the entrance of the 
wigwam when the chief returned home. She had 
not the temerity to tell him what had occurred; but 

* The suffix "qua" indicates the feminine gender in the Ottawa lan- 
guage. ^ Though she might have another name, a man's wife could always 
be designated by adding "qua" to his name. It is also the root of the 
word "squaw," but is properly pronounced with the a long. 



THE CROOKED TREE 



not seeing the tickinawgun, he mistrusted that 
something terrible had taken place, and half sur- 
mising the truth, demanded: 
"Where is my son?" 

"Oh, my husband, don't be angry. I left him 
hanging on a tree while I went after water, and 
though I was gone but a moment, when I returned 
the baby and tickinawgun had disappeared." 

"Miserable woman!" said the chief, "you are not 
worthy to be called wife. I will go in search of my 
boy and if I fail to find him by nightfall, I will leave 
you, never more to return." 

In vain did the old man follow every trail, he 
could find no trace of the missing child; and thence- 
forth Menonaqua was left to shift for herself She 
was lucky to get off with her life, her husband was 
so incensed. 

Many years passed and through brooding over 
her misfortune, Menonaqua grew thin and wrinkled 
Food becoming scarce in her neighborhood, she 
finally decided to cross the valley and make her 
home near that of old Muck-kuk-kee-qua. 

One day her son, who had grown to be a man, 
told the toad woman, whom he thought was his 
mother, that he had seen a strange squaw near by 
and she looked so pitiful that he wanted to go and 
give her something to eat. 

"Oh, don't have anything to do with that old 



THE CROOKED TREE 55 



Zee-go-wish" (wrinkled face), said Muck-kuk-kee- 
qua. 

"Why do you hate her, mother ?" 

"I don't hate her, but she's a busy body." 

"Please give her to eat for my sake?" 

After a number of entreaties the toad woman 
took the brisket of a deer and going towards the 
newcomer's hut called from afar: "Zee-go-wish! 
Zee-go-wish !" 

The other answered faintly, "What is it?" 

"Seeing we endure your presence, take this and 
be thankful for it. Now I hope you'll be satisfied!" 
exclaimed Muck-kuk-kee-qua, turning on her heel. 

"Me-quach" (thank you), said the other meekly. 

While returning from a successful hunt loaded 
with deer meat a few days later, the young hunter 
passed close to the hut of the strange woman, and 
looking in at the door, saw a face at once so pa- 
thetic, sweet and affectionate that irresistibly he 
felt himself drawn towards it. Looking up, Me- 
nonaqua recognized her long lost son and ex- 
claimed: "Oh, my dear boy, come in and do not 
shun me, for I am your mother." 

"How can that be?" asked the young man, "Muck- 
kuk-kee-qua claims that I belong to her." 

Then Menonaqua told him the story of his being 
stolen when a child and how his father, the great 
chief, was so angry that he left her forever on 
account of it. 



THE CROOKED TREE 



That you may know that I am telling the truth " 
she said, "ask the toad woman to show you the 
tickinawgun in which she carried you when a babe 
ihen ask her to show you the tickinawguns of her 
other children. You will see how much more beau- 
tiful and nicer yours is, which will prove to you that 
you are the son of a chief and not descended from 
a toad woman." 

"I believe you, mother," said the boy "Take 
this vension and I will go and question old Muck- 
kuk-kee-qua." 

When he arrived home he said to the toad 
woman, "See here, mother, I have never seen the 
tickinawgun in which you carried me when I was 
little. Won't you please show it to me?" 

"Why are you getting so inquisitive all at once ?" 
she asked in wonderment. 

"Oh, I just happened to think that I would like 
to look at it." 

"I'll bet you've been to see that old Zee-go-wish 
111 show you the cradle, but don't go near that 'old 
wrinkled face,' again on peril of your life." Then 
she hobbled away and presently from among a pile 
of furs and skins she produced the prettiest ticki- 
nawgun he had ever seen, embroidered with ouills 
and decorated with beautiful ornaments. 

"There," she said, "is what I carried you in when 
you were a child." 



THE CROOKED TREE 



57 



After admiring it he said, "Now will you please let 
me see the ones you carried my brothers in?" 

"This is surely the work of that mischievous old 
hag/' said the toad woman, but being afraid to 
arouse the suspicions of the young man, she again 
hobbled away to get the other cradles. Soon she 
appeared with two dirty and common looking af- 
fairs which she said were the tickinawguns in 
which his brothers had been carried. 

"How is it?" he asked, "that mine is so pretty and 
theirs so dirty and homely?" 

"My, but you are impudent to be asking so many 
questions. But you were better looking, that's the 
reason." 

"Yes, and that's what always has puzzled me, 
mother. Why are my little brothers all so black, 
small and ugly, while I am so different?" 

"I guess 'old wrinkled face' has put it into your 
head to ask me all these questions, thinking to em- 
barrass me; but I am used to such tricks. I will 
answer your questions truthfully and prove that 1 
am not trying to deceive you. When your brothers 
were born, the weather was cold, dark and dreary; 
and that's why they are small and inferior looking. 
But when you were born, the sun was shining 
brightly; the day was warm and cheerful. For 
them I used the old tickinawguns, but for you I had 
to have something better." 

"Very well, mother," said the young man, "now 



58 THE CROOKED TREE 

I am satisfied. I killed a big deer at the end of the 
path yonder, but was so tired that I could not brin* 
it home with me. I wish that you would go and 
get it. ° 

"I'll do so," said Muck-kuk-kee-qua, "but don't 
you dare play any tricks on me. If you do I'll 
make you and Zee-go-wish pay dearly for 'your 

After she was far out of his sight, he caught all 
his little brothers, of whom there were eighteen or 
twenty, and stringing them on a pole, hung them 
high up in the crotch of a tree in front of the wig- 
wam. Then going and getting his real mother he 
set out with her in search of his father. 
_ When Muck-kuk-kee-qua returned towards even- 
ing all tired out from her fruitless quest of the deer 
and saw what had been done, she was wild with 
rage. She unstrung her children, but their backs 
were so bent and their hips so twisted that all they 
could do was to hop around and turn sommersaults 
She tried to take them with her in pursuit of Me- 
nonaqua and her son, but could make no progress- 
she, too, had been turned into a toad and could only 
hop and jump around in the dirt, like her children. 

The young hunter who escaped with his mother 
soon succeeded in locating his father, the great chief 
He reconciled his parents, who again lived together 
but no more tickinawguns were left hanging on the 
trees. 



THE CROOKED TREE 



59 



WHY THE PINE TREES WEEP. 



Fifteen or twenty years ago there lived at Man- 
isttque, Michigan, a full blooded Indian, by the 
name of "Cornstalk," who was considerably past 
one hundred years of age. He was on Mackinac 
Island during the War of 1812 and could tell many 
thrilling and interesting stories. He was a unique 
character on the streets of the northern Michigan 
city, and possessed wonderful vitality for one of his 
advanced age. 

In his younger days Cornstalk had an experience 
which tried his nerves. One bitter cold day in the 
winter time a tree fell on his leg, pinning him to 
the ground. No help was near. He couldn't move, 
and he knew if he remained in that position long he 
would freeze to death; so he reached in his pocket 
for his knife and cut off his leg, and then crept 
home on his hands and knees. 

Cornstalk related the following quaint but pretty 
legend to Robert H. Wright, a brother of the 
author, explaining why drops of water, like rain, 
sometimes fall from pine trees : 

Mongo, according to Cornstalk, was the first man 
that inhabited the earth. He came from the land 
of the rising sun and made his home along the 
streams of the north and the shores of the Great 
Lakes. Although fish and game were plentiful, 



60 THE CROOKED TREE 

Mongo was dissatisfied and lonesome, for he had 
no companion to share his joys. The Great Spirit 
saw that h 1S heart was sad, and one night as Mongo 
sat in front of his wigwam warming himself by a 
huge camp fi re , he was suddenly startled by a 
bright light in the heavens; and on looking up saw 
a meteor swiftly descend to the earth, leaving a 
train of flames in its wake. The bright ball fell 
only a short distance from where he was seated and 
as it fell it burst into many pieces and a beautiful 
woman stood before him. 

Mongo was frightened and would have fled but 
the woman held out her hand and beckoned him to 
come. Mongo's fear suddenly left him and a new 
s ran g i hat of ]ove __ took > 

It * S ° U ' u He led Wasaqua-which name 
means the new born light-to his wigwam on the 
banks of the "roaring Escanaba," where for many 
moons they lived together happily and several chil- 
dren were born to them to bless their union. But 
one day Mongo became sick and although Wasaqua 
nursed him with all a woman's tender care, he sank 
rapidly and ere many days he died. 
> „ soluble. 

She lay upon Mon- 
go s grave and wept and dampened the earth with 

fo e LT rS T, Sh K- r , efUSed f °° d and wouId not be com- 
forted. The birds and beasts brought her manv 

tender morsels, but she put them aside. 
At night bears and wolves lay down by her side 



THE CROOKED TREE 



61 



to keep her warm; but her grief kept increasing 
until nature could stand it no longer and she fell 
into the sleep that knows no waking. She was laid 
in the grave by the side of her husband at the end 
of the day; and the whippoorwill's voice was 
hushed and the howl of the wolf echoed not through 
the forest, so great was the grief of all living crea- 
tures. 

But before the sun shone upon that grave again, 
a great pine, like a solitary, watchful sentinel, stood 
at the head of the mound where the first man and 
woman were returned to earth "to mix forever with 
the elements. " 

The pine was the first of its kind among the 
monarchs of the forest and night and day it wept 
and sang a sweet, sad requiem o'er the lonely 
mound. And to this day the pine trees weep and 
moan and sigh for the first born of the earth. 

It is a singular fact that pine trees easily gather 
moisture which slides off the "needles" in the form 
of rain; but the Indians think it is Wasaqua's tears 
which she shed on the grave of Mongo. 



62 



THE CROOKED TREE 



RAPID TRANSIT IN EARLIER DAYS. 



"De Hinjun do funny trick," said Napoleon Tebo, 
as we were paddling down a river one morning in 
late autumn. 

"Old Pere Tebo/' as he was called— the last of 
the coureur de bois of the north country— was a 
man of unusual hardihood,, and his knowledge of 
hunting and trapping and the early life of the 
woods was inexhaustible. 

The above remark was in response to a request I 
had made to tell me one of his many thrilling ex- 
periences, and as he took his short clay pipe and 
proceeded to puff long wreathes of smoke, I settled 
back comfortably to let the canoe drift lazily with 
the current: for I knew I was about to hear some 
choice bit from the Frenchman's repertoire. 

Fond as I was of fishing, I would rather sit and 
listen to Pere Tebo tell a story in his inimitable 
patois than to haul in the gamiest black bass in the 
river. 

W ith his dark, wrinkled, oval face drawn into 
innumerable contortions as he sat and related his 
tales he seemed to me to be a worthy rival of Rob- 
inson Crusoe or King Arthur's Knights of the 
Round Table. 

"Dey can put medicine on dare skin,'" he con- 
tinued, "'shoot fire out dare eyes air' run t'ru de 



THE CROOKED TREE 63 



woods like wiT animal. Dey scare de dev out any- 
one day meet." 

"Did you ever see one do such a thing?" I ques- 
tioned, by way of further drawing him out. 

( T see him do it good many times, me. When I 
was carry de mail on Shushwar an' Mackinac I take 
trip of hover hundred miles on liT piece bark in jus' 
t'ree, four hour. By Gee Pwell, we go like light- 
ning. Dint I never tole you dat, Misseu?" 

"No, Pere, I never heard a thing about it," 

"Well, I'm sprise. I t'ot heverybody knowed 
dat. You see, I have to take long trip wid dog and 
tranneau. I go on Cheboygan, pas' Hinjun River, 
clear on de Gran' Traverse bay. De snow was ver' 
deep an' de road ver' bad. But eet makes no differ- 
ence, de mail she has to go so long as oY Pere Tebo 
ees able to carry heem. 

"We'en I come on Gran' Traverse bay I was 
'bout five hour late an' all tire out. I wish for rest, 
but my wife was seek w'en I leave him on Petite 
Traverse an' I'm een grate hurry for get back. 
After I change de mail bag de oY chief of de village 
come an' ask me for go on his wigwam an' have 
bowl hot corn soup. He say, 'You need dis to 
brace you up before you go back/ My, eet was 
taste bon — de Hinjun know how to make de corn 
soup. But eet take Frenchwoman to make de pea 
soup, ees dat not right, Misseu?" 

I nodded assent, as Pere Tebo relit his pipe, took 
two or three puffs and continued: 



64 



THE CROOKED TREE 



"Den de chief say I better lay down for lil' res'. 
Eet ees long trip an' I'm liable for exhaus'. De dog 
also ees een no shape to travel so far. I feel so tired 
I say, 'I'll lay down li' while but not long— I'm 
anxious for get home/ 

"I was hardly stretch out on de fur, we'en all at 
once dare was big light. I see my house on Petite 
Traverse an' my wife on hees bed so seek he can't 
stan' up. 'Nap,' he say; 'Oh, Nap, come an' help 
me — I'm goin' die.' 

"I jump on my feet an' tell de chief I'm goin' 
hetch up my dog an' start for home. 

'No,' he say, 'wait teel morning/ 
m "I tole him my wife was seek an' I have to come 
right off. Maybe I get dere too late an' he be dead. 
Sacre ! 

Too bad,' the chief say. 'I help you go quick.' 

"Den he take some dat maudit grease an' he rub 
it all hover my body. Den he put some on lil' piece 
of birch bark an' tole me to sit down on de bark. 

"Den he pass his han' hover my head an' say 
somet'ing in Hinjun. I no understan' but all at 
once I feel myself sailing 'long de groun' faser dan 
lightning. We pass by house an' wigwam so swif 
eet look like long street. I try for holler or make 
noise to attrack some of my frien's as we go by, 
but my face act like she have lockjaw. I can't 
hopen my mout' even for say bon jour. Sacre, but 
we was fly! 




A SYLVAN PATH AT CHARLEVOIX 



THE CROOKED TREE 



65 



"I see spark fly 'round an' look under me an' de 
bark seem all on fire but she no burn. Wen I 
look 'roun' I see long track of flame follow behin.' 

"I was feel awful scare an' begin to wish I was 
back on Gran' Traverse bay; we'en all at once I 
see nudder big light which show my house on Petite 
Traverse. I see my wife seek on de bed wid his 
han' stretch out toward me an' holler: 'Oh, Nap, I 
wish you be here now. Hurry back, fas' you can, 
I'm so seek I got to have de physich. Can't you 
hear me, Nap? Don't stay on de Hinjun house 
long de road, but come to me quick as de tranneau 
will carry you!' 

"Dat give me couragement an' I say, 'All right, 
Angelique, wait liV while an' Napoleon will be on 
deck.' 

"De bark seem to understan', too, an' give jump 
an' go fas'er dan ever. 

"My heart come up into my mout' an' I say to 
myself : Tf I can only get home before my wife die, 
I'll be happy man;' so I hang on wid all my might 
an' say to de bark; 'Go fas' you like— I'll be scare 
no more.' 

"Before we go far I see lights an' I know I'm 
near home. De piece of bark sail 'long de track 
jus' like she be alive— pas' lake, hill an' river an' 
never make mistake nor take wrong path. Before 
I know it, she sail right up to de door on Petite 
Traverse an' stop. 



66 THE CROOKED TREE 



"I jump out an' run on de house an' go to the 
bedroom an' my wife set up an' say, 'Oh, Napoleon, 
Fm so glad you come. I have bad dream. How 
you get here so quick? I t'ot you mus' be far 'way 
on Gran' Traverse. I'm awful seek an' I t'ot I die 
before I ever see you again/ 

"I look at de clock an' eet was only two een de 
morning. I fef Gran' Traverse after 'leven o'clock 
dat evening so I make de trip een about free hour- 
over sixty mile. 

"I tole Angelique 'bout de chief an' de IiT piece 
of bark, an' she say, 'No one can do dat, Napoleon. 
You mus' be mistake.' 

"I say, 'No, ma chere, dare ees no mistake, I go 
out an' bring you de bark.' 

" 'All right, Nap.' he say, 'bring de bark, I like 
to know how de Hinjun do dat trick.' 

"So I go out for get de piece of bark, but sacre! 
she disappear. Nobody will believe me now. I 
feel awful sorray. 

"I go back an' tell my wife, 'De bark ees gone.' 
'I guess you must been drunk,' she say. 'If eet 
was true story de bark would be dare.' 

" 'Now I remember it,' I say. 'De Hinjun chief 
w'en he rub on de medicine he talk to de bark. I 
din't know what he say den. Now I know. He 
tole it to make return trip— dat's why she's dis- 
appear." 




LOVER'S LAXE 
Section of an old Indian trail at Roaring Brook. 



THE CROOKED TREE 67 



AN INDIAN LAWSUIT. 



A very unusual thing once occurred at L'Arbre 
Croche. An Indian by the name of Duny-age-ee, in 
a fit of jealous rage, killed his cousin, a beautiful 
maiden of sixteen summers, near the outskirts of 
the village. In the dusk of evening he had followed 
her down a secluded pathway, whither she had gone 
in search of some pitchwood, with which to start 
a fire. When she discovered that she was being 
followed, she started to run, but Duny-age-ee was 
close upon her, and by his superiority as a runner 
soon reached her side. They were just entering a 
little gully, where all was dark and quiet, when the 
man seized the maiden by the arm and demanded 
that she go with him and not resist, or he would 
kill her. But the young girl was brave and supple, 
and not to be easily intimidated nor coerced. Proud- 
ly raising her head, she drew her hunting knife and 
defiantly faced her enemy. With a sneer, he 
wrenched it from her hand and threw her to the 
ground. Her struggle was long and heroic, but at 
last the superior strength of the man asserted itself 
and when the stars and moon peered through the 
trees they beheld her lifeless body lying prone and 
bleeding in the bottom of the gully. A dark form 
scurried down the pathway, looking neither to the 
left nor to the right, and an owl hooted dismally 



68 THE CROOKED TREE 



from a nearby tree. The deed was committed in 
the darkness of the night and the criminal escaped 
in the recesses of the forest. 

The Indians were sufficiently civilized at this time 
to fully realize the enormity of the act, and the 
following day the entire village was aroused to a 
high pitch of excitement. A search was instituted, 
the fleetest men of the tribe were sent out in all 
directions, and finally Duny-age-ee was captured. 
The friends of the murdered girl were then con- 
sulted and expressed a desire that he be punished 
as the white people punish their criminals. Not 
having any methods in their native customs of dis- 
posing of such cases, except by barbaric forms, the 
head men went for advice to Colonel Boyd, a white- 
haired veteran of the war of the American Revolu- 
tion, who resided at Mackinac Island, and who had 
much influence among them. After carefully con- 
sidering the matter, Mr. Boyd advised them to mete 
out to the prisoner whatever punishment they 
found he deserved by some proceeding of their own. 
Whatever they would do, he said, would be all 
right. 

After much consultation, the chiefs decided to 
hold a lawsuit. So a large wigwam for the occasion 
was built on the hill at L'Arbre Croche, where all 
the relatives of the murderer and his victim, their 
friends and a number of onlookers, assembled one 
fine summer's day, in an endeavor to satisfy the 



THE CROOKED TREE 69 



ends of justice and firmly establish the social order, 
from the aboriginal point of view. 

On either side of the tent were long benches, the 
brothers and sisters and near relatives v of Duny- 
age-ee sitting on one side, and those of the murdered 
girl facing them on the other; the oldest member of 
the respective families being seated at the head, and 
so on down to the foot, according to their age. 

At the head of the wigwam, on an elevated plat- 
form, sat A-pock-o-ze-gun, the great chief of the 
Ottawas, his person ornamented with eagle feath- 
ers, silver medals and beads and wearing his beau- 
tifully embroidered blanket, as was customary at 
great events. In the center of the room were great 
piles of furs, blankets, tobacco, guns, ammunition, 
etc.; outside were horses, cattle, in fact, everything 
that the Indians considered wealth, brought there 
by the relatives of Duny-age-ee to buy their kins- 
man's liberty. 

When the time for the trial arrived, Chief A- 
pock-o-ze-gun arose and made a short, eloquent 
speech in his native togue. He said that they were 
not gathered to avenge the murdered girl, as their 
priest taught them that God, the Great Spirit, 
would do that; but they were there for the purpose 
of making peace between the estranged kinsmen. 
He then produced a calumet, "long pipe," which 
had been handed him by one of the medicine men 
present, and, filling it with tobacco, lit it by the 




70 THE CROOKED TREE 



means of a flint and steel. After he had taken a 
long puff he presented it to the first of Duny-age- 
ee's relatives (his father), who took it and smoked 
as a token of peace. 

The chief exclaimed, "Me-sa-gwa-yuck," which 
means "that's right," and passed it on to the next, 
who likewise took a puff, and so on, to the end of 
the row; no one refusing the pipe of peace. 

The chief then said, "These relatives of the pris- 
oner, you see, desire peace and not bloodshed. They 
are sorry for what has been done, and have brought 
all these goods, which they offer to the family of 
the dead girl, so that they will have compassion and 
not ask for revenge." 

He then passed the pipe to the first one on the 
other side, the oldest sister of Duny-age-ee's victim. 
After some hesitation, she took the proffered pipe 
and smoked. Three other sisters followed her ex- 
ample, also her three oldest brothers, and the pipe 
was handed to the eighth and last relative, the 
departed girl's favorite brother, a young man who 
sat with flashing eyes at the end of the row. 

Shaking his head he said, "Kaw" (no), and re- 
fused to smoke. 

The chief looked downcast and muttered, "Sun 
ah gut" (too bad), and taking the pipe, carefully 
emptied it of all its contents. Then filling and 
lighting it as before, he again handed it to the young 
man. 



THE CROOKED TREE 71 



"Kaw! kaw!" repeated the latter, indignantly. 
"Gitchi sun ah gut!" (much too bad), exclaimed 
the chief. 

The young man jumped to his feet and pointing 
to the prisoner, threatened him with his life. Turn- 
ing to his brothers and sisters, he rebuked them 
fiercely, saying that for the few paltry articles that 
were offered them they were willing to sacrifice 
their relative, but as for him, he would not rest 
until he had killed the villain and avenged his sister. 

The friends of Duny-age-ee advised him to flee 
at once, lest the brother kill him, and some of them 
helped him to escape. He was taken through the 
forest to the lake, placed in a canoe and told to 
paddle far, far from L'Arbre Croche. He remained 
away for many years and did not return until the 
man who had sworn the vendetta was dead. 

In some respects the lawsuit showed wisdom and 
considerable judicial ability, but was indecisive, be- 
cause the unforeseen had happened — the jury failed 
to agree. 



72 



THE CROOKED TREE 



HOW THE INDIANS SELECTED A PICTURE 
FOR THE ALTAR. 



^ When the second church was erected at L'Arbre 
Croche, the missionary who had the matter in hand 
requested the Indians to provide suitable decora- 
tions for the altar. They promised to furnish what 
was necessary, and the good priest, who had other 
missions to visit, departed joyously on the rounds 
of his journey. As winter was approaching, the 
Indians were soon on their way to the south. 
There they met a French trader who had in his 
possession, among other articles for sale, a beauti- 
ful oil painting, depicting a courtier of the reign 
of Queen Anne presenting a rose to his lady love, 
in true knightly fashion. The picture at once took 
the fancy of a young Indian, who suggested to his 
people that they procure it to hang in their beloved 
church. His advice proved acceptable to the 
others, and the following spring found the painting 
hanging over the center of the altar, which was 
profusely decorated with paper flowers of all colors 
and varieties and many other gewgaws and 
trinkets. 

In due course of time the missionary visited his 
other churches and returned to L'Arbre Croche. 
He was royally welcomed by the people, who in- 
formed him that everything was prepared to begin 



THE CROOKED TREE 



73 



services whenever he should be ready. But upon 
entering the little church he was horrified to see 
what had been done; for the lady in the picture, 
according to the artist's fancy, was attired in the 
extreme fashion of her day, with low cut dress and 
short sleeves. Imagine, if you can, such a picture 
in a house of worship ! The reverend father stood 
for some time, alternately overcome by astonish- 
ment, vexation and chagrin, then calling some of 
the leading Indians to one side, told them he was 
very sorry, but the picture they had procured was 
not suitable for a church; that it was a most beau- 
tiful painting and a credit to their foresight and 
generosity, but a secular representation of such a 
character could not be allowed in the house of God. 

Greatly disappointed, the Indians withdrew, 
called all the people together, told them what had 
been said, and a long and earnest consultation was 
held. 

Finally a spokesman was chosen, who was sent 
to the priest to tell him that in spite of his objec- 
tions the picture was very pleasing to them; they 
were unable to see any harm in it or anything 
wrong, and should it be removed, after all the 
trouble and pains they had taken to secure it, they 
would consider it an unfriendly act; and many 
members of his congregation, it was feared, would 
be so displeased that they might remain away from 
the church altogether. 



74 THE CROOKED TREE 



The Indians waited in a body, a short distance 
away, for his reply. 

Then the forgiving and kind father, realizing the 
true situation and the innocent intentions of his as 
yet uncivilized children, sent word that the picture 
would not be taken down, and for them to all come 
in and attend Mass. They gladly accepted the invi- 
tation, and the picture, which was a Murillo, re- 
mained where the Indians had placed it for many 
years. 



THE CROOKED TREE 75 



LEGEND OF THE MOTCHI MANITOU. 



The Indians of L'Arbre Croche were firm believ- 
ers in manitous, or spirits. All the good things, 
they attributed to the Gitchi Manitou (Great 
Spirit) ; and the bad things to the Motchi Manitous 
(Bad Spirits), there being very many of the latter. 

The Motchi Manitou, most dreaded in these 
parts, inhabited the waters of Little Traverse Bay, 
and many frightful stories have been related re- 
garding this monster. Often when great storms 
raged at sea, sacrifices were made to him to appease 
his anger, for the Indians imagined he was the one 
that caused the disturbance. A dog w r ould be killed 
and thrown into the lake, with the words, "Here is 
something for you, O Manitou; now be still and 
stop troubling the water/' 

According to the legend, this manitou was once 
a human being like all the other inhabitants of the 
village; in fact, he was the son of a great hunter 
named Ma-gee-we-non, and was his father's joy and 
pride. With the greatest delight the old warrior 
spent most of his time teaching his boy to shoot 
the arrow and throw the spear, and making him 
acquainted with all the knowledge necessary for an 
Indian brave's education. But in spite of all that 
was done to make the young man a great chief, he 
early evinced traits of a diabolical character. Al- 



76 



THE CROOKED TREE 



though an adept in the use of his weapons, it be- 
came apparent that he was possessed of an evil 
spirit. He grew to large and ungainly proportions 
and became in truth a human monstrosity. He de- 
lighted in torturing people and did all sorts of 
things to annoy those about him. One day, highly 
incensed over his ill luck at fishing., he sought the 
feeding grounds of a dreaded sea-serpent, which he 
captured and turned loose in the village, where the 
enraged reptile killed many of the inhabitants and 
committed all sorts of depredations. 

At this period the tribe was ruled over by a re- 
markable chieftain who was said to possess super- 
natural powers. The Great Spirit had blessed him 
with an extremely beautiful daughter whose hand 
was sought by all the young braves of the sur- 
rounding country, among whom was Xeoma, con- 
sidered the best warrior and hunter in the tribe. 

Wa-wass-ko-na (flower), the chief's daughter, 
returned the young man's affections, but Xeoma 
had a rival in the powerful Motchi Manitou, and 
strange to say, the chief wished his daughter to 
marry the latter, hoping thereby to gain more 
power and influence and become greater than any 
of his predecessors. 

Neoma asked the chief for his daughter's hand, 
but was, of course, rejected, and Wa-wass-ko-na 
was imprisoned in a separate wigwam, with guards 
placed at the entrance, so that the lovers might not 



THE CROOKED TREE 77 



elope. But "love laughs at locksmiths, " and one 
dark night Neoma stole into his sweetheart's 
prison, first drugging the guards with a potion he 
had obtained from an old woman who resided in 
the outskirts of the village. Wa-wass-ko-na was 
only too glad to regain her freedom and join her 
faithful lover. They hastily embarked in a canoe 
which Neoma had provided for the occasion, and 
fled to an island far out in Lake Michigan (Manitou 
Island), where they landed, pitched their tent, and 
for a time lived happily together. 

But Motchi Manitou soon learned their where- 
abouts, and one day when. Neoma was away in 
quest of game, hied himself to his wigwam and 
abducted his bride, whom he carried to his abode — 
a desolate cave near the shore — where he impris- 
oned her. 

Neoma returned home, and missing his wife, 
spent many weary hours of anguish, but at last 
surmised the cause of her disappearance. He im- 
mediately started in pursuit of Motchi Manitou, 
but arrived at the latter's rendezvous too late to 
rescue Wa-wass-ko-na and was only met by the 
jeers and mocking laughter of the Motchi Manitou. 
With a heavy heart he lingered about the prison, 
contriving many plans by which he might rescue 
his wife, but failed in all his attempts. 

Meanwhile Wa-wass-ko-na became heart-broken 
and despondent and shed many tears. She rapidly 



78 



THE CROOKED TREE 



failed in health until she was only a mere skeleton 
of her former self, and in a short time she crossed 
"the dark river of death." 

Xecma was overwhelmed with grief,, and dis- 
heartened, he climbed "the crooked tree/" which 
was not far from the Motchi Manitou's cave, and 
with a weird, plaintive death-song threw himself to 
the beach, striking in the waters of Lake Michigan, 
which caught up the sad air and have ever mur- 
mured the lament of the departed warrior. 

At last the great chieftain, Xeoma's father, 
passed away and the people saw that in order to 
insure their safety, they must destroy the Motchi 
Manitou. A great council was held and it was 
decided that all the warriors should turn out en 
masse, to get him. dead or alive. But of no avail. 
He seemed to possess a charmed life. He never 
could be seen, but each morning the inhabitants of 
L'Arbre Croche would awaken to find new mischief 
or depredations. 

Finally, after many days of searching, he was 
discovered, nestled among the sand dunes on the 
shore, fast asleep. Without losing any time the 
bravest of the people crept up cautiously and deftly 
bound him with basswood bark, so that when he 
awoke he was helpless. His captors then placed 
him in a canoe and, taking him far out into the 
bay, tied huge stones to his neck and threw him 
overboard. As he reached the water, by his exer- 



THE CROOKED TREE 



79 



tions to get loose, he caused such a sea that the 
canoe was upset and all its occupants drowned. 

Even to the present day, when great tempests 
rage on Lake Michigan, the older Indians say : "It's 
Motchi Manitou trying to get out of the water/' 



80 



THE CROOKED TREE 



THE TREATY PAYMENT. 



In accordance with the terms of several treaties, 
the government made a number of annual payments 
to the Indians of L'Arbre Croche. Most of these 
payments were in merchandise, but the Indians also 
received large amounts of money, and some time 
previous to the arrival of the government agent, 
traders from all parts of the upper lake region 
would assemble with small stocks of goods to traffic 
with the natives. 

Glancing for a moment at the scene of one of 
these government treaty payments, we see a vast 
and varied concourse of people. Along the shore 
as far as the eye can reach are numerous small 
tents, huddled together as close as it is convenient 
to pitch them— the temporary abode of those Indi- 
ans coming from a distance. Large crowds of 
Ottawas, painted and bedecked with feathers and 
wearing the native costumes, stand upon every 
corner, while many whites intermingle with their 
dusky brethren and dart hither and thither in ap- 
parent confusion. From the narrow wharf near 
the center of the village we push our way along 
with the rabble, for such it may be called, and soon 
find themselves in front of the old government build- 
ing at the foot of the bluff, where we are informed 
the payments will begin at 1 o'clock sharp. We 



THE CROOKED TREE 81 



wait, for the time is near at hand, and presently the 
doors of the old building are thrown open and a 
rush is made by the Indians to get inside, each 
anxious to receive his annuity first. Door tenders, 
however, keep them back and an interpreter gives 
the information that only one chief with his band 
is to come in at a time, the one with the largest 
following to be first, and so on. 

The first chief, or headman, with about 100 fol- 
lowers, enters and is marched up to the farther end 
of the large room, where he is obliged to certify 
before the Indian agent that all the persons with 
him are lawful members of his band. The headman 
then signs his name, or makes his mark, to the 
effect that he has received the amount due him from 
the great white father. 

This ceremony over, the Indians repair to a long 
counter on one side of the room where numerous 
clerks are stationed to wait upon them. Each In- 
dian and squaw is given so many blankets, a num- 
ber of yards of different kinds of cloth, cooking 
utensils, provisions etc., and a number of farm 
implements to promote agriculture amongst them; 
and in addition to this the men are each allowed a 
quantity of tobacco. Lastly comes the specie pay- 
ment. This is done under the direct supervision of 
the Indian agent, and the Indians hold their 
blankets to catch the glittering gold and silver. 
After the payment the Indians withdraw to the 
street with smiles of satisfaction. 



82 THE CROOKED TREE 



And now comes the turn of the traders, who, in 
many cases, soon have the Indians under the con- 
trol of their fire water, and a system of cheating, 
thievery and knavery prevails which can be per- 
petrated only upon unsophisticated savages. 

Through curiosity we enter one of the little 
stores near at hand to see the Indians do their trad- 
ing. One, who has received his annuity, is passing 
along when his squaw spies a bright colored shawl 
and immediately she wishes to purchase it. They 
come in and point to the shawl, and the proprietor, 
who is perfectly familiar with their mode of shop- 
ping, takes it down and by his energetic talk and 
display of goods, induces them to purchase it and 
numerous other articles besides. When their selec- 
tions are made, the Indian takes his blanket from 
his shoulders, unties the corners and spreads his 
money out upon the counter. He is unable to 
count it, so the trader "rakes in" what he deems 
sufficient pay for his goods, with no stint as to pro- 
fit, and the Indian ties up the rest and with his 
squaw goes out to visit some other store. 

Sometimes several days were consumed in the 
payment of the different bands, after which the 
traders and Indians packed up and left for their 
respective homes— not a vestige remaining of the 
erstwhile populous village along the shore. 

The Indians of L'Arbre Croche have always be- 
lieved that considerable money still remained to 



THE CROOKED TREE 



83 



their credit in Washington. Xo doubt they never 
received all that the government promised or in- 
tended that they should. In some cases dishonest 
agents were probably the cause. It is related that 
one agent, who was sent to the Indians with thirty 
thousand dollars for specie payments, secured the 
signatures of the headmen and then disbursed only 
ten thousand. 

So, during the administration of Grover Cleve- 
land, an Indian by the name of Shawn succeeded in 
collecting enough money by subscription to take 
himself and a number of companions to Washing- 
ton to look into the matter and see if they could not 
collect what they claimed was still due in the way 
of interest and unpaid treaty money. 

They did not succeed in their enterprise, but were 
well received and royally entertained at the capital. 
They stayed until their money was all gone and 
finally a collection had to be taken up to get them 
back home. 

When they returned to L'Arbre Croche a greaH 
feast was being held at which Shawn related his 
experience. 



84 THE CROOKED TREE 



THE GREAT FEAST OF THE OTTAWAS. 



The great feast of the Ottawa Indians at L'Arbre 
Croche during the days of its final glory was called 
Tu-san-wung, which annually took place on the eve 
of All Saints' day. It was the outgrowth of a bar- 
barous custom the wild Indians had for remember- 
ing their dead, mixed with some of the civilized 
forms of more modern times. When the early 
missionaries first came to this country they saw the 
futility of trying to induce the Indians to at once 
give up their wild demonstration of grief over their 
departed people, so a sort of compromise was made 
by uniting it with the church's celebration of All 
Saints' day, in French, Tout Saints (hence the In- 
dian term Tu-san-wung), at which the participants 
continued in a measure some of their strange and 
superstitious ceremonies, one being that of "'Shoot- 
ing the Devil" and another "'Feeding the Dead." 

When the repast was about half over, all present 
would repair to some high eminence and build a 
fire, around which they would dance and shout at 
the top of their voices; occasionally the men would 
go to the edge of the hill and shoot volleys up into 
the air, with the words, "amo awda,"— "let us 
drive him away," referring to the evil spirit. After 
the atmosphere was thought to be cleared, the 
natives would go back and finish their feast. 



XEGOXEE. 106 YEARS OLD 

This aged woman walked from the 
Indian village at Burt Lake, when it 
was burned by order of the sheriff 
to Middle Village, where she soon 
after died. The despoliation and dis- 
persion of the Burt Lake Indians 
forms one of the darkest pages of 
American history and proves the ut- 
ter failure and weakness of the gov- 
ernment's Indian policy in the past. 



THE CROOKED TREE 



85 



Those who gave it invited, besides others, one 
person for each dead relative they had. These 
especially favored ones were supposed to personify 
the departed relatives, and the more they ate the 
better were the host and hostess pleased. Food 
was also placed on the graves, and if in a few days 
it had disappeared, it was a token that the dead 
were pleased and had eaten it; if it still remained 
at the end of a certain period, it was said that the 
spirits were angry and another feast would have to 
be given to satisfy them. The one who found a 
bean or a small coin that was previously placed in 
cookies that were passed at the table, would be the 
one to give the next feast. 

It was near the close of one of these feasts when 
the weird ceremonies attending the "shooting of 
the devil" and the "feeding of the dead" had been 
performed, that Shawn, the Indian who had been 
to Washington, was invited to address the assem- 
bled guests and tell them about his wonderful trip. 
He responded in English as follows : 

"We come on Washington. Beeg crowd. Band 
play. Musick. March. Go to hotel. Have ice 
cream, cake, pie, good nice eating. Bimeby go on 
White House. Knock. Mr. Washington come to 
door. When he see us he say, 'Beesy, come to- 
mallow. 5 

"Tomollow we come again to White House. 
Knock. Mr. Washington come to door. He say, 
'Beesy, come tomollow/ 



86 THE CROOKED TREE 

"Tomollow we come again to White House. 
Knock. Mr. Washington say, 'Come in.' He say, 
'What's matter?' 

" 'Money.' 

"Mr. Washington take down beeg book. Turn 
over. Turn over. Turn over. Turn over. Bimeby 
he say, 'Sorry. Too bad. No money here for 
Injun.' 

"I say. 'You take much land — you owe Injun 
money.' 

"Mr. Washington say, 'I buy land, give money, 
got receipt.' 

" 'Mistake/ I say. 

" 'No mistake,' say Mr. Washington. 'Let Injun 
hunt, fish.' 

" 'Land all gone. No more hunt. Can't catch 
'em fish.' 

" 'I tell you,' say Mr. Washington, 'be good 
Injun, pray, go to church, don't bother white man, 
bimeby die, go to heaven.' 

"I reply, 'My friend, I'm 'fraid you make great 
mistake. White man can't get in heaven; how can 
Injun do it? Impossible.' " 

Though Shawn did not accomplish much at 
Washington, his speech created considerable en- 
thusiasm at home. 



THE CROOKED TREE 87 



OUTWITTING A WHITE MAN. 



After the lands that were secured by the govern- 
ment through treaties with the Indans were 
thrown open for general settlement, many white 
people flocked to L'Arbre Croche from all parts of 
the country. The Indians were given first choice 
in selecting homesteads, and consequently in most 
cases held the best pieces of land. These home- 
steads were looked upon with envious eyes by the 
more rapacious of the white settlers and became 
common prey for the land sharks, who frequently 
secured the choicest farms for little or no consid- 
eration. 

The Indians, unused to property ownership by 
deed, and not understanding the system of taxation 
inaugurated by the whites, often neglected to pay 
their assessments, and tax titles were thus easily 
obtained by unscrupulous parties who would seize 
the property and eject the original owners at the 
first opportunity. An Indian could not understand 
how a little piece of paper with his signature, or 
more often only his mark upon it, could be so val- 
uable as to allow the one who held it to take away 
his home. All the business transactions ever car- 
ried on among the natives while they retained 
their tribal relations were made by word of mouth; 
the Indian valued his word and would keep it under 



88 



THE CROOKED TREE 



all circumstances. A signature could mean little 
to him unless accompanied by a verbal promise. 
Lying was an unknown art among the red men. 
Not so with the whites. The latter made many 
promises which they failed to keep ; as the Indians 
kept theirs, the advantage was always on the other 
side. When they were compelled to leave their 
property and were forcibly removed, they looked 
upon the transaction as little better than simple 
robbery. 

By such actions on the part of the land sharks, 
the Indians were gradually pushed farther and 
farther towards the interior of the country, but in 
time some of them learned in a measure the ways 
of their white brothers, and were therefore enabled 
occasionally to drive a bargain whereby they secured 
something near what their farms or lots were worth. 

The Indian settlement was surveyed and platted 
into a village by the government, and a certain 
prominent white man secured one of the lots by 
the payment of a very small sum of money. A 
number of years afterwards, upon examination, by 
a prospective buyer, it was found that the deed 
was faulty, and that it would be necessary to have 
a^ certain male heir who lived in another town, and 
his wife, sign it. 

The white man therefore hired an interpreter to 
go with him to the town where the heirs resided, 



THE CROOKED TREE 89 



to secure their signatures. After considerable time 
in hunting him up and locating him, the Indian, 
whose name was Chokun, agreed that he and his 
wife would sign the deed for $25. The white man 
tried to argue him into reducing the amount, but 
the Indian was obdurate, claiming that he had suf- 
fered much at the hands of the whites, and he and 
his wife wouldn't think of signing their names for 
any less amount. He spoke very good English, it 
was found, and made a grand plea for his people. 
At last the white man said he would pay the sum 
demanded, and secretly told his interpreter that he 
was glad to get off at that. So Chokun sent for his 
wife, a very comely squaw, and the party repaired 
to the office of a justice of the peace. After the 
papers were made out, the white man told Chokun 
to sign his name. 

"Give me twenty-five dollars/' said Chokun. 

"Oh, certainly," replied the other, handing him 
the money. 

Chokun took the proffered pen, signed his name 
and stepped aside. 

"Now have your wife sign it," said the w T hite 
man, all smiles. 

Chokun turned to his wife and a few words were 
spoken by them in Indian. As the woman made no 
move to put down her name, the white man asked: 

"What does she say?" 

"My wife say he want twenty-five dollars, too," 
said Chokun. 



90 



THE CROOKED TREE 



"Oh,, no," exclaimed the white man., "you agreed 
to both sign for that sum and you can't get any 
more out of me." 

The woman remained stationary. 

"My wife he want twenty-five dollars, too." re- 
peated Chokun. 

^ "Come," said the white man; "you can't work 
that kind of a game. Have your wife sign the deed 
and hurry up." 

There was silence for several moments. 

"My wife he want twenty-five dollars, too." again 
repeated Chokun, firmly. 

The white man was flushed with anger and 
paced the floor nervously. Xo amount of argument 
could make the Indians change their minds, so be 
finally opened his pocketbook .and gave Mrs. Chok- 
un the required S25 and forthwith she signed her 
name. 

This is probably about one case in a thousand 
where an Indian got the better of a bargain when 
dealing with a white man. 



THE CROOKED TREE 



91 



THE FLIGHT OF "RISING SUN." 



As far as historians have been able to ascertain, 
all pagan Indians believed in the immortality of the 
soul. The Algonquin tribes generally and the Ot- 
tawas in particular thought that there was a 
broad, beautiful prairie, lying at a great distance, 
abounding in the finest game of all kinds where 
the warrior went after death to feast, dance and 
revel in happiness forever and ever. The road to 
this happy hunting ground, called Ke-wa-kun-ah, 
"homeward road," or Che-ba-kun-ah, "ghost road," 
was said to be so difficult of passage that no mortal 
could ever hope to pass over it; indeed it was only 
the bravest souls even after death that ever reached 
the Indian's heaven; the weakest, including women 
and children, falling by the wayside. It was dis- 
covered and revealed to the people by a great war- 
rior, who, in a trance, traveled over the "road of 
the dead," followed by his mother and sweetheart. 
Being assisted by kindly spirits, the former finally 
captured him, and brought him back to the land of 
the living to tell his wonderful story. 

Long before the paleface had ventured upon the 
Indian's native land there dwelt upon the banks of 
Lake Michigan, near the resort now called We- 
que-ton-sing, a squaw upwards of four score years 



92 



THE CROOKED TREE 



of age, who went by the name of No-ko-qua. Her 
husband, who was a great chieftain in his day, had 
passed to the great beyond, but he had left a son, 
who like himself, was the wonder and pride of the 
whole tribe. He excelled in the chase; as a runner 
he could not be beaten, and in battle he always 
secured the most scalps. His name was Petoskey, 
which means "the rising sun." The companions of 
Petoskey had no chance to win any prizes when he 
entered the lists; his arrow always flew the 
straightest; his eye could see the farthest; and his 
strength was so great that he could attack the most 
ferocious animals empty-handed and come off vic- 
torious. 

One night, after returning from a hunt in which 
he had been unusually successful, Pe-tos-key was 
suddenly stricken with a strange malady, and be- 
fore dawn he lay unconscious upon his couch of 
skins. There was much sorrow throughout the 
village and requiem songs and laments could be 
heard in every wigwam. For many days the chief 
remained in a comatose condition, his aged mother, 
No-ko-qua, and also his sweetheart, Winona, who 
was the most beautiful maiden among the Ottawas, 
being constantly at his bedside, until they, too, from 
sheer exhaustion, were compelled to lie down. 

Suddenly they were awakened by a blood-cur- 
dling war-whoop, which echoed loudly through the 
still night air. No-ko-qua and Winona jumped to 



THE CROOKED TREE 93 



their feet, and as they did so, beheld Petoskey 
arisen from his bed, arrayed in all the paraphernalia 
of war, but before they could catch hold of him he 
uttered another piercing cry and bounded out of 
the door. Thinking he had left his bed in a delir- 
ium, they started in pursuit. 

"Pe-tos-key! Pe-tos-key I" cried the women, but 
Petoskey paid no attention to their entreaties, run- 
ning only the faster. 

Then Winona, with girlish fickleness, gave up the 
chase and returned to her father's wigwam; not so 
No-ko-qua, whose mother-love was a surpassing 
virtue. With a doggedness born o f despair she 
clung to the trail, which was doubly difficult to do 
because Petoskey no longer ran upon the ground 
but a little distance up in the air. 

Then she realized that she was upon the che-ba- 
kun-ah, or "ghost road/' but determined to continue 
her pursuit, because she was satisfied that her son 
was still alive. All the rest of that night she fol- 
lowed him as best she could, surmounting the most 
annoying obstacles. Finally she came to a broad 
river, gee-ba-ya ze-ba, "the river of death/' in 
which a large splashing tree indicated to all de- 
parted spirits the place to cross. The river ap- 
peared like a huge serpent, forever twisting and 
crawling. A little distance away she saw a wig- 
wam, and going thither she knocked at the door. 
An old man made his appearance, who in great 
surprise asked her what she wanted. 



THE CROOKED TREE 



"You are on the road of the dead," said he: "why 
are you wandering in this direction ':" 

"Have you seen my son. Petoskev. the great 
warrior and chieftain?" asked Xo-ko-qua. 
_ "Yes/" replied the old man, "he passed over the 
" ver a ^ort time ago. But I fear you cannot fol- 
low him. It is a dangerous and difficult thin? and 
you are sure to fall in the water. I am stationed 
here by Gitchi Manitou to brain all people who 
may pass this way. so they can forget their worldly 
troubles and forever enjoy themselves in the 
Happy Hunting Grounds which lie at the end of 
the road. But they must first register their entry 
into the realm of death by tasting of the fruit of life 
which lies yonder. Your son was unable to do this, 
so I did not remove his brains; he is not dead but 
travels m a trance." 

Looking to the place indicated by the old man, 
No-ko-qua saw a huge strawberry covered with 
tooth-marks made by departed warriors. As the 
braves stooped over to take a bite of the berry, the 
guardsman brained them with a sharp, quick' blow 
from his tomahawk, and the severed organ was 
thrown into a mow-cock, or birch-bark box. 

Without losing any time, Xo-ko-qua attempted to 
cross the river by crawling along the tree. She 
had not proceeded far, however, until she slipped 
and fell into the dark, angry waters. Calling for 
assistance, she again attracted the old guardsman, 



THE CROOKED TREE 



95 



who came and pulled her out. Beneath her she 
noticed many minnows swimming about in all di- 
rections. These, the guardsman assured her, were 
the spirits of little children and those who struggled 
to cross the river but could not do so and finally 
fell into the water. 

In response to her many entreaties the guards- 
man at last assisted her across to the other shore, 
and again she started on Pe-tos-key's trail. 

Before long she came to a steep mountain over 
which it was impossible to pass. In vain she 
searched for a breach or opening of some sort so 
that she might make her way to the other side, and 
was about to give up in despair when she espied 
that terrible passageway, where two pestles of pro- 
digious size rise and fall alternately. There is room 
for but a single person to enter and the soul must 
dodge quickly, first under one and then under the 
other, in order to pass in safety. Many get caught 
and perish, especially the weak and aged, but Xo- 
ko-qua after watching the proceedings for some 
time, boldly made the attempt and succeeded in 
slipping unharmed underneath the pestles. 

She then found herself in a most beautiful coun- 
try. There were all kinds of fruits in abundance 
and flowers were blooming on every hand. The 
roadway of the dead led on through this delightful 
country to a grand forest in which songbirds of all 
kinds were flooding the air with wonderful melo- 
dies. 



96 



THE CROOKED TREE 



No-ko-qua followed her son for two davs more 
and on the third, just as the sun was sinking, she 
arrived at the edge of a large clearing from which 
proceeded the songs and laughter of a large multi- 
tude. 

She had reached the Happy Hunting Grounds. 
Seeing a little wigwam near by, she knocked at the 
door-post and was admitted by a squaw as old as 
herself, who said she, too, had followed a son under 
similar circumstances; and although he came every 
night to hunt and dance and enjoy himself in the 
beautiful clearing she could not capture him for he 
was really dead. She bade her guest remain with 
her a little while, when she promised to point out 
Petoskey, for she had seen him the night before. " 

They waited together outside the tent, and just 
as the moon showed its silvery beams, an old man 
• came and seated himself in the center of the field 
and dark shadows glided into the opening, dancing 
and shouting to the music of his tom-tom. Deer, 
elk, buffalos and bears and all kinds of game 
mingled with the happy warriors. Occasionallv 
one ot the shades would cautiously approach to the 
place where the old women were watching, and 
pointing his finger at them would say, "Look at the 
hve people-how funny they are. Go on home and 
leave us here in happiness. All the live people arfe 
foolish and we don't want to be bothered with 
them any more." Then laughing gayly would run 
away to again join in the sport of his fellows. 



CHIEF BLACKBIRD 



Who wrote an Ottawa grammar and 
history of his people. 



THE CROOKED TREE 



97 



One of the last to enter the field was a young 
brave who did not seem to enjoy himself like the 
others, but kept clasping his hands to his head and 
crying, "My head is heavy! Oh, my head is so 
heavy !" 

This, No-ko-qua recognized as her son, Petoskey, 
whose distress was caused by his brains, which the 
old man stationed at the river of death had been 
unable to remove, because he was not dead. 

The women waited until he staggered toward 
them and as he did so, they grasped him tightly 
and stuffed him into a sack, which had been pro- 
vided for the occasion, so that he could not escape. 
Then taking him to the wigwam they put him 
through a series of sweats, produced by hot stones 
and sand, and the young man was soon brought 
back to consciousness. 

No-ko-qua and her son remained with their kind 
hostess for some time after his resuscitation, watch- 
ing the festivities of the dead each night, but as 
they were unable to share in their happiness, they 
soon began their perilous journey back to the land 
of the living, where they arrived in due time. They 
were, of course, received with open arms, and the 
union of Petoskey and Winona was solemnized at 
a great feast where the young hero related to a 
breathless multitude his experience in the Happy 
Hunting Grounds. 

The Ottawas of UArbre Croche still cherish 



THE CROOKED TREE 



many superstitions based on this tradition. They 
regard the strawberry with the greatest reverence, 
since the legend says it is the fruit of life; and they 
never kill little minnows because their fathers 
taught that they were the souls of departed chil- 
dren. 




THE CROOKED TREE 



99 



THE GREAT FIGHT BETWEEN THE CLANS. 



It is not generally understood why the missions 
were practically abandoned for many years, but a 
reliable tradition informs us that the abandonment 
was due to a terrible massacre, which took place at 
the most northern part of L'Arbre Croche, now 
known as Cross Village. 

A new church had been built there, and the 
Reverend Father du Jaunay was planning an im- 
posing ceremony on the feast of All Saints' day. 
Accordingly a large concourse of people gathered 
and the village was in gala attire; warriors be- 
decked with paint and feathers were present from 
all parts of the country, promenading through the 
little streets, or sitting in groups on the brow of 
the bluff smoking their calumets and relating 
stories. The clans of the Turtle, the Eagle and the 
Beaver were more in evidence than others, and 
could be recognized by the elaborate emblems they 
wore and by their proud and haughty bearing. 

The day before the priest arrived the village was 
filled with eager people and the beach as far as the 
eye could reach was literally covered with tents and 
wigwams. Towards evening many camp fires were 
lighted and the curling smoke bespoke the great 
feast on the morrow when the beloved pale face 
Father would be present to tell them of a wonderful 



100 THE CROOKED TREE 



Redeemer who was said to love the Indian as much 
as the white man and who had died to save all 
mankind. Foot races, target shooting and quash- 
go-na-win (jumping) contests had been indulged in 
throughout the day and the most weary of the 
athletes were preparing to retire for the night. 

A maiden of the Turtle clan was walking along 
the shore a short distance from her tent. A young 
brave, wearing the totem of the Beaver, crept up 
cautiously behind her. As she stooped to dip some 
water in her birchen pail, he sprang forward and 
seized her, and attempted to drag her toward the 
forest, holding one hand tightly over her mouth. 
But he had overestimated his strength; morever 
he was wild and excited from several draughts of 
a peculiar beverage he had obtained from a trader, 
which he called sko-da-wa-bo, "fire water." He 
staggered and his foot slipped. 

The maiden, with the agility of a tigress, sprang 
from his grasp, and uttered the war-cry of the 
Turtles. ^ Immediately a dozen brawny forms were 
at her side. She displayed her torn garments and 
pointed to the Beaver, who was trying to escape in 
the bushes. They at once swooped upon him, their 
tomahawks gleaming in the air. Seeing his ap- 
proaching doom, he, in turn, raised the war-cry of 
his clan. A moment later his form lay stark and 
bleeding on the ground, and his scalp-lock was 
handed to the maiden whom he had attacked. 



THE CROOKED TREE 101 



According to the information, it is a calm autumn 
night ; the moon is shining brightly overhead, and 
everyone is living in joyous expectation of the com- 
ing fete. Suddenly two blood-curdling war- 
whoops rend the air. The people immediately jump 
to their feet and pandemonium is let loose. Lamen- 
tations, shouts and wails betoken the ire of the 
Beavers. There is no time for a council, at which 
the judgment of the wiser men might prevent 
further bloodshed; neither is there any precious 
moment lost in war dances or other preparations. 
Instead, the infuriated Beavers single out their new- 
made enemies, and a hand-to-hand combat ensues 
with frightful results. Here, a fallen brave writhes 
in agony upon the ground, his skill sunken by the 
stone hatchet of his adversary who wields his 
weapon with unerring aim; yonder, a young 
mother weeps over the mangled form of her hus- 
band, while a score of murdered bodies strew the 
ground in all directions. A lad who tries to recover 
his father's belongings, after the latter has been 
slain, is seized by the ankles and his head dashed 
against a tree; a frenzied demon has severed the 
head of a victim from its body, and grasping it by 
the hair, swings it several times above his head, 
throwing it with terrific force against a projecting 
rock; the shouting and yelling are deafening and 
the carnage continues until the soil is drenched 
with blood. Finally the chieftain of the Eagles, 



102 



THE CROOKED TREE 



who have had no part in the affair, sides with the 
Turtles, and puts an end to the bloody tragedy 
Not, however, until the Beavers are all 'but exter- 
minated. 

The morning sun rises bright and clear and re- 
veals a calamity appalling in its desolation and 
destruction. 

A little canoe is seen approaching in the dis- 
tance, bearing the aged missionary and his two 
Indian escorts, Arriving upon the scene of the 
massacre, it is said, he raised his hands on high 
and exclaimed; "The earth bleeds and heaven 
weeps! Oh. what have my poor children done" 
Never can I set foot in this place again. I have 
labored zealously, but can do nothing." 

What was to have been a wonderful Christian 
demonstration was thus transformed into a pitiful 
scene of sorrow and distress. Packing up his few 
belongings, the good Father du Jaunav left the 
country, nevermore to return. 

The log structure he used at L'Arbre Croche and 
which answered the purposes of a church for many 
years, at last passed into decav. Another more 
commodious structure was then constructed, which 
in turn gave way to another, to be occasionally 
visited by missionaries, but the Indian population 
has dwindled until only a few remain. 



THE CROOKED TREE 



103 



LAST OF THE CHIEFS. 



Blackbird was the last hereditary chief of the 
Ottawas of L'Arbre Croche, He and his sister, 
Margaret Boyd, the latter known as the Indian 
princess, were both well educated and did much for 
the advancement of their people. Chief Blackbird 
wrote a short history of the Ottawas and a gram- 
mar of their language; he also gave lectures, and 
recited original compositions, which attracted wide- 
spread attention. His sister, Margaret, once went 
to Washington and was granted an audience by 
President Garfield. Blackbird and his sister pos- 
sessed more than ordinary ability. They were kind 
and good to the poor, and both deplored to the last 
the encroachments of the whites. 

Blackbird's predecessor was Xe-se-wa-quat, or 
Chief Fork-in-the-Tree, whose father was acting 
chief at the time the Ottawas gave up their tribal 
relations and became citizens of the United States. 

Chief Fork-in-the-Tree had a son who got into 
some kind of trouble and as a result was sent to 
the Detroit House of Correction, while his father 
was still living. This greatly worried the old war- 
rior, who lamented continually for his boy. One 
day he met an acquaintance whom he asked for a 
bowl of tobacco, and having received it, he com- 
menced to tell how badly he felt for his son in 
prison. 



THE CROOKED TREE 



"Oh, don't worry for him," said his friend. "He's 
all right where he is." 

"But he must be very poorly fed and ill-treated " 
said the old chief sorrowfully. 

"Oh, not at all," replied the other. "On the con- 
trary, he has his meals brought to him regularly 
has a good place to sleep, and a steady job." 

"Is that possible?" exclaimed Fork-in-the-Tree. 

"Yes, sir," continued the other, "and besides that 
they even give him a certain allowance of good 
tobacco (Samaw)." 

The old Indian laughed. "By golly!" he said. 
Ale like to go there, too." 



THE CROOKED TREE 105 



THE STRANGE CASE OF FR. WEIKAMP. 



About the middle of the last century there arrived 
at L'Arbre Croche a small Mackinaw sailboat carry- 
ing a Catholic priest and a few brothers and sisters 
of the order of St. Francis. The priest informed 
the villagers that he came to make his home in that 
part of the country and intended to establish a con- 
vent somewhere in the neighborhood; he had lately 
been at the head of a similar institution which he 
had founded in Chicago in conjunction with a 
wealthy woman who came with him from Germany, 
his native land; but his building having been mys- 
teriously set on fire and destroyed, he had decided 
to labor among the Indians. After looking over 
the ground, he purchased a tract of two thousand 
acres, located at a point called Cross Village; and 
shortly afterwards he and his followers began the 
construction of a large wooden edifice thereafter 
known as the Cross Village Convent. Father Wei- 
kamp was a tertiary Franciscan, or monk of the 
third degree, and being unable to secure the neces- 
sary permission from his superiors, he acted on his 
own initiative in this manner. The organization he 
established was entitled the Benevolent, Charitable 
and Religious Society of St. Francis, in honor of his 
patron saint. 

Father Weikamp soon proved to be a very odd 



106 



THE CROOKED TREE 



and eccentirc character, and besides a convent, hos- 
pital and other buildings, he also had constructed 
a sepulchre which he kept in readiness to receive 
his remains whenever the time came for him to lay 
aside his earthly cares. This sepulchre consisted of 
a deep cellar, well walled, covered by a small build- 
ing that stood perhaps six or eight feet above the 
ground. The structure was located at some dis- 
tance from the convent, to the right, in the open 
held, and was always kept securely locked. No one 
aside from the tertiary and a few intimate friends 
knew exactly what the sepulchre contained. There 
was known to be a casket in the center of the 
cellar, surmounted by a skull and cross bones be- 
side which the priest daily made three hours of 
meditation; and frequently he went to the grue- 
some place to read books and papers or for his 
after dinner smoke, of which he was said to be very 
fond. J 

Divers were the stories related of the good monk 
and the secrets of his "private cellar," as some of 
the villagers persisted in calling the sepulchre. 
Some claimed it was filled with casks of choice 
wine while others declared it to be the rendezvous 
of the wealthy woman from Germany. 

Regardless of this gossip, Father Weikamp kept 
the even tenor of his way, going on calls to the sick 
when needed, and attending to his regular duties at 
the church. 





REV. J. B. WEIKAMP 
Who established the Cross Village Convent. 



THE CROOKED TREE 107 



For many years the society thrived, land was 
cleared, a grist mill, saw mill and shops were erect- 
ed, besides a parochial school for Indian children. 
The brothers proved excellent farmers and the crops 
and stock they raised made the convent self-sup- 
porting. 

All the years the colony was in existence Father 
Weikamp could be seen each day going to the 
sepulchre, from which he would usually return to 
the convent from three to four hours later. If any- 
one called for him during the hours of his medita- 
tion, his strict orders were that he should not be 
disturbed. His visits to the sepulchre became so 
regular and of such common occurrence that finally 
they ceased to cause any comment. 

As the monk advanced in years his meditations 
were prolonged, and at last he called his associates 
about him and gave them instructions regarding 
his burial, for he now felt that he had not long to 
remain among them. 

A few days later, while returning from a drive 
through the country, his horse became frightened, 
and in the runaway that ensued Father Weikamp 
received internal injuries from which he did not 
recover. 

A friend who had long known him, upon hearing 
of his serious illness, hastened to Cross Village 
from a distant town to be at his bedside, if possible, 
before dissolution should take place. The friend, 



THE CROOKED TREE 



however, arrived belated; in fact he did not reach 
the convent until Father Weikamp had been laid to 
rest m the sepulchre. But this he did not know 
until later. He claims to have seen the tertiary 
upon his arrival that night, alive and well, three 
days after his death and one after his burial, ac- 
cording to the records. Regarding the occurrence 
he tells a story almost beyond belief. Did we not 
know him to be a man of sterling qualities and 
utmost reliability, we might doubt his word. As 
it is, we can only marvel, and enter the incident on 
the list of unexplained phenomena that baffles the 
mind of man. Our informant's name we are not 
at this time at liberty to disclose, but his remark- 
able story in his own words is as follows: 

"Father Weikamp and I had been, since our ac- 
quaintance a few months after his arrival at Cross 
Village, on very intimate terms. I felt considerable 
pride, I must acknowledge, in knowing that I was 
one of the few in whom he seemed to have real con- 
fidence. He often invited me to the convent and 
even asked me upon several occasions to accom- 
pany him to his sepulchre or underground vault. 
I always gladly accepted these invitations, partly 
at first, I will admit, from curiosity; but also on 
account of genuine friendship. While in the little 
room upon my last visit I remember distinctly 
Father Weikamp telling me of his firm conviction 
and belief in a future life. He was rather eloquent 



THE CROOKED TREE 109 



in his statements and I was struck with his sin- 
cerity. We conversed at length upon the subject, 
and as I was about to go, I suggested to him that 
whichever one of us should die first would, if with- 
in his power, manifest himself to the other in some 
manner. He readily consented to this proposition 
and seemed pleased with the idea. 

"When I learned of his last illness I was at a 
distant point on urgent business, but started imme- 
diately for his bedside to see him once more if pos- 
sible before he passed away. After a long ride, I 
reached the convent late at night and in order not 
to cause any undue disturbance, I decided to hitch 
my horse temporarily while I went to the door to 
find out whether I had arrived too late or was yet 
in time to see my friend. I remembered that a 
little distance beyond the convent, in the direction 
I was traveling, there was a little sheltered arbor 
and hitching post beside the roadway where I had 
sought refuge once before, and in going thither 1 
glanced toward the sepulchre which was now with- 
in my view. To my astonishment I saw a light 
issuing therefrom. A soon as I reached the arbor 
I hitched my horse hurriedly, and started across 
lots towards the sepulchre, to see what was taking 
place at that late hour. As I neared the little build- 
ing, I could distinctly hear Father Weikamp's voice 
alternately singing and praying. The door was 
flung wide open and looking in I beheld him on his 



HO THE CROOKED TREE 

knees as I had seen him many times before I 
could not have been mistaken— I was too well ac- 
quainted with that short, rotund figure, and full 
red face surmounted by a fringe of white I of 
course, concluded that he had recovered from' his 
illness and not wishing to disturb him, quietly 
withdrew to the convent, where I knocked at the 
door and was admitted by one of the sisters of the 
society. I told her I had come hurriedly from a 
distance to see Father Weikamp knowing that he 
had been very ill; but was glad to see that he had 
recovered. 

" 'Indeed,' said she, 'the good Father died several 
terday ^ ^ ^ ^ '° ^ se P ulchre y es " 

" 'Impossible !' I exclaimed; 'I was just there and 
saw him kneeling in front of his coffin as usual.' 

We will go and see if any strange thing has 
taken place, said the nun, who called another, and 
accompanied by the two I returned to the sepulchre. 

When we arrived there all was dark; the tomb 
was securely locked, with absolutely no signs of 
any hving thing within. To satisfy my curiosity 
the sister, who remembered me well as a friend of 
father Weikamp, unlocked the door and we entered 
with a lighted lantern. All was still as death and 
everything m its proper place. The lid of the coffin 
containing Father Weikamp'* remains was firmly 
fastened and appeared to have been neither moved 



THE CROOKED TREE 111 



nor molested. We opened the casket, to more thor- 
oughly convince ourselves regarding the matter, 
and beheld the familiar features of the dead tertiary, 
whose body was in precisely the same position in 
which it had been placed the day before by the 
members of the Benevolent, Charitable and Re- 
ligious Society of St. Francis. " 



112 



THE CROOKED TREE 



LEGEND OF THE MOUNDS. 



A tew miles north of L'Arbre Croche, beneath 
the wide-spreading boughs of a large oak. are two 
mounds whose history reveals a pathetic story of 
love and tragedy. 

During the palmy days of the Ottawas of this 
region, when their arrows brought the crimson 
blood spouting forth from the fleet-footed deer and 
their war-whoops sent terror to the hearts of the 
braves of all contemporary tribes. Weosma, a noted 
warrior and hunter, whose aim was perfect and 
whose foot was as light as a roe's, resided with his 
aged mother in the village of a renowned clan to 
the north. 

Each young maiden of the neighborhood, it is 
said, had fond hopes that sooner or later her charms 
would attract the young man's attention, but he 
was heedless to ail such allurements, until one day 
the nymph of love made her appearance and We- 
osma became a victim as helpless as any ever was 
before. 

His enamorata was Enewah, the bewitching 
daughter of the great chief who ruled over the 
destiny of his people at that time. Weosma had 
first met her while on a hunting expedition in the 
south, and ever after that eventful day his life was 
not the same; he was unhappy when out of her 



PRINCESS MARGARET BOYD 

ister of Chief Blackbird and bene- 
factress of her race. 



THE CROOKED TREE 113 



company and seemed to take pleasure only in per- 
forming brave deeds that he might be worthy of 
Enewah's love. She in turn looked with favor upon 
his attentions and ere long the necessary parental 
consent was obtained and a date announced for the 
wedding ceremony. Great preparations were 
made for the occasion, and all looked bright and 
promising for the future life of the young couple. 

But in the annals of L'Arbre Croche, as else- 
where, the course of true love never did run smooth, 
and an evil one appeared upon the scene, who, by 
the fertility of a cunning brain, blasted forever the 
high hopes and fond dreams of the devoted pair. 
Amo, the Bee, a rejected suitor of Enewah's, had 
sworn revenge upon the fair young maiden, and 
now came a glorious opportunity to carry out the 
vendetta. 

As Weosma was a very popular young man, it 
was decided to hold a great feast in honor of his 
success in winning the chieftain's daughter. The 
evening previous to the occasion Amo arrived at 
Enewah's wigwam in breathless haste and warned 
the young girl not to marry a man who was already 
betrothed to a woman of another tribe, which, to 
the Ottawas, was a terrible crime. Enewah only 
laughed in scorn at the Bee's scheme and turned 
away, saying that Weosma was too good a man to 
do anything of that kind. Then Amo told the story 
to her father, the great chief, who, thinking him his 



114 THE CROOKED TREE 

friend, forbade his daughter marrying such a scoun- 
drel as Weosma was shown to be. 

When therefore Weosma arrived at Enewah's 
wigwam that evening to present her with a white 
deer skin that he had just taken, the chief received 
him very coldly and told him what he had heard 
Excuses were of no avail and after a few words 
Weosma was ordered out of his sight forever. 

In despair the young man returned to his home 
The next morning bright and early he took down 
his bow and quiver of arrows and started for the 
forest. He returned shortly, bringing with him 
two white pigeons, which he threw upon the 
ground before his mother, saying: 'Mother, I am 
as innocent as these pigeons of the crime of which I 
am accused; I know you will believe me if no one 
else will. These are the last birds I will ever shoot 
for you," and as he uttered the words he drove his 
hunting knife to his heart and expired. 

The news of his death spread quickly throughout 
the tribe, and the gay throng that was to gather 
en fete on the morrow was turned into one of utter 
chagrin and discouragement. The festive dances 
were abandoned and instead could be heard the 
mournful notes of the songs of lament. 

When the chief heard of the story of the pigeons 
he at once summoned Amo, "The Bee," but the 
latter, thinking the truth would be discovered, had 
fled the country. 



THE CROOKED TREE 115 



Enewah, who had cherished the hope that her 
lover might be proven innocent in the sight of her 
father, became almost frantic at the sad news of 
his death. She rapidly pined away, and finally 
ended her earthly existence in the same manner as 
Weosma, exclaiming: "Bama pe ning ga wa ba 
ma," which translated means, "I will see him by 
and by." 

The two mounds mark the spot where the lovers 
were laid to rest side by side and the silent forest 
has kept the secret for more than a century. 



THE CROOKED TREE 



THE GREAT MUCKWAH. 



Frequently we find more than one legend regard- 
ing a certain place. This is largely accounted for 
by the not uncommon custom of adopting stories 
of friendly tribes, which often passed current from 
one to the other. For example, the writer ha< 
heard at least three different legends as to the 
origin ot Mackinac Island, all of which were au- 
thentic Indian stories. Following is another version 
ot the Sleeping Bear: 

From the land of the Illinois word came to the 
tribes of Michigan that a giant black bear had 
made its appearance and was killing manv people 
and devastating the country. In vain had the boldest 
hunters essayed to match their strength and skill 
with that of the great "muckwah." It was said that 
he was so large and powerful that he paid no atten- 
tion whatever to arrows or spears; but knocked 
over the strongest warriors with a mere slap of his 
huge paw and devoured men, women and children 
All the country was in alarm and people fled from 
their homes to places of safety. 

No calamity of equal importance had occurred 
since the great famine or the days of the flood. 

Sogimaw, the most noted hunter of the Ottawa; 
was prevailed upon to seek the monster and slay 
him. Sogimaw was gone a fortnight and returned 



THE CROOKED TREE 117 



with the word that he had seen Muckwah; but if he 
were ten times as strong and as big as twenty more 
men like himself he would still be no match for the 
animal. 

The people all shuddered at his story; and were 
further terror-stricken when the report came that 
the giant bear was making his way northward, 
leaving death and desolation in his wake. They 
huddled together in the wigwams, quaking with 
fear at every little noise, thinking it might be 
Muckwah ready to pounce upon them. 

Mondapee, an old brave who towered head and 
shoulders above his companions — a veteran who 
had been able to overpower all his adversaries, 
laughed and said, "Do not be alarmed, my children; 
I will go forth and kill Muckwah/' 

With his heaviest warclub, arrayed in his famous 
fighting costume, Mondapee sallied forth amid the 
plaudits of his people. For six days nothing was 
heard from him; but horrible stories still reached 
his tribesmen regarding the depredations of the 
great bear. So a searching party was sent out for 
the warrior. Not very far from his home in the 
forest, near a clump of hemlock trees, they found 
Mondapee's warclub and a few belongings. He 
had been torn to pieces and devoured by Muckwah. 

A day or two later a little girl ran breathless into 
her parents' wigwam saying that she had seen 
Muckwah; that he had killed the two companions 



118 



THE CROOKED TREE 



with whom she was playing., but by running swiftly 
through the bushes she herself had managed to es- 
cape. When asked to describe the monster she said 
he was taller than the highest wigwam and longer 
than six canoes placed end to end. 

Frantically the people hid themselves in caves 
and in other out of the way places. Any person 
who had the temerity to stray away to any distance 
generally disappeared forever; and if thev were so 
fortunate as to return it was always with "additional 
tales of rapine and murder. 

Wily and crafty runners were sent out over the 
country in an effort to band the inhabitants to- 
gether tor a united attack upon Muckwah but be- 
fore the plan could be put into execution the fero- 
cious beast attacked three of the largest villages in 
the proposed federation and destroyed every wig- 
wam. It seemed as though the monster was des- 
tined to crush out all human opposition, and the 
population was in despair. 

A few days after this cataclysm, however, it was 
reported that Muckwah, satiated with his' crimes 
and misdemeanors, had curled up on the shore of 
the lake to take his long winter nap. Now was the 
time tor action ! Councils were held and vast bands 
of warriors assembled; huge flint-tipped arrows 
were hastily manufactured and giant spears de- 
vised; war dances were the common pastime, and 
soon the signal smoke arose from every hilltop. 



THE CROOKED TREE 119 



In the meantime, while all these vast prepara- 
tions were going on, Muckwah was overpowered 
and conquered; not by warriors, but by a gentle 
maiden, who to save the people, carried a potion 
from an old sorceress, and creeping cautiously over 
the sand dunes, placed it carefully at the nostrils of 
the bear. Muckwah was soon overcome by the 
powerful fumes and expired with scarely a strug- 
gle. 

He lies to this day where his death took place, 
on the east shore of Lake Michigan, where he may 
be seen from passing boats at a point called Sleep- 
ing Bear. 



THE CROOKED TREE 



THE WISE CHIEFTAIN. 



Ne-bwa Ka-o-ke-maw was a very learned Indian 
his name signifying the wise chieftain. Most of 
his people resided on the north side of Little Trav- 
erse bay, but what is now Bay View, the summer 
city, seemed to have a strange fascination for him- 
and he built a house there which he named "Bay- 
she-kane-daw-kwuck ne wigwam," meaning "Mv 
beautiful home." 

Often after he had returned from the chase, Ne- 
bwa Ka-o-ke-maw would sit on the shore near his 
wigwam and watch the setting sun, and after night 
had spread her sable folds he would meditate on 
the moon and stars. It is related of him that he 
composed poetry which he took great delight in 
reciting to his subjects. 

The following stanza, which was handed down 
from generation to generation among the Indians 
is said to have been composed by this wonderful 
man: 

Anawe awe waiabine wingwed 

Agimakang jajaie nindakimina; 
Aka dash wi wika odamakasin 

Wadashi minawanigo kioseiang. 
Translation : 
Although the cruel paleface 

In our land may now be found, 
He will never find a place 

In our happy hunting ground. 



THE CROOKED TREE 121 



He was found dead one morning on the beach, 
where he had remained all night trying to make out 
what the stars were. 

He was buried near the spot he loved so well, 
amid the sorrow of his entire tribe. 



122 THE CROOKED TREE 

THE INDIAN COMPANY 



A company of Indian soldiers from the Wbre 
Croche country fought in the Civil War under Gen- 
eral Grant from the battle of the Wilderness until 
the surrender of the Confederates at Appomattox 
Court House. Company K, First .Michigan Sharp- 
shooters, was mustered into service January 12 1863 ■ 
was stationed for a time at Fort Dearborn to' guard 
the State arsenal at that place and soon after was or- 
dered to the front. With Grant the Indians crossed 
the Rapidan and received their baptism of fire in 
the terrible battle of the Wilderness. They also took 
part m the hard-fought engagements of Spottsylvania 
Court House.. Cold Harbor and Petersburg, and letters 
received home from superior officers stated that these 
men were among the best soldiers in the service, gal- 
lantly charging in direct assault as well as doing ef- 
fective sharpshooting and picket duty. Although be- 
ing dispossessed at home, they fought as valiantly un- 
der the Stars and Stripes as their ancestors did under 
the plumes of the wild American eagle, and let it be 
said m all justice that they cast a glamour over the 
annals of the North that shall not easily be effaced. 

Of the hundred men who left to fight for their 
country, more than half were killed in battle and prac- 
tically all the rest were wounded. At the present 
time there are but two survivors. 



THE CROOKED TREE 



123 



Lieut. Garrett A. Gravaraet, who recruited the In- 
dians and organized the company, brilliantly led his 
men in a daring charge at Spottsylvania after seeing 
his father shot dead at his side. At Petersburg, he 
was badly wounded in the left arm and died the first 
day of July following at Army Square Hospital, 
Washington, D. C. Lieut. Graveraet was a talented 
young man, an accomplished artist and a splendid mu- 
sician. He was one of the first government teachers 
of the Indians at L'Arbre Croche and had great in- 
fluence among the natives. Always honorable and 
straightforward in his dealings with them, his confi- 
dence was never betrayed and "My Indians/' as he 
loved to call them, proved true and lasting friends. 
The remnants of the little band were among the first 
to enter Richmond to share in the great victory the 
North had won. 

An amusing incident is related of Antoine Tabay- 
ant, one of the members of the Indian company. 
Twins, two boys, were born to him, after he had 
gone to the front, and Mrs. Tabayant at once wrote 
to her husband asking what names should be given 
them, for in the Indian custom it was the father's 
sacred prerogative to christen his sons. 

Antoine answered immediately to call one Abra- 
ham Lincoln and the other Jefferson Davis. 

His wife did as requested and the twins grew up 
to be lively youngsters; but sad to relate, both died 
before Antoine returned home from the war. 



124 THE CROOKED TREE 



He did not know it, however, and as soon as he 
met his wife, after being mustered out, he inquired 
about the boys. 

Sorrowfully the mother informed him of their 
death. 

_ For a time the old warrior was disconsolate; but 
finally he summoned up courage and asked for parti- 
culars; how they had behaved, what they had done, 
and all about them. 

"Well," replied Mrs. Tabayant, "they were always 
fighting. I couldn't turn my back but what they 
would be pulling one another's hair, clawing and 
biting and banging each other in the nose and eyes." 

Antoine pricked up his ears. "Which one was the 
best man?" he asked blandly. 

"Oh, Abraham Lincoln was always on top," an- 
swered his wife. "He could throw Jefferson Davis 
down, blacken his eyes and make his nose bleed everv 
time." 3 

The soldier's face lit up with a broad smile. "By 
gol! -"-' ±£: ' ; P urr - V g^h da:-:: good!" he exclaimed 
"Jus' like I tole them fellers down South, aroun' 
Richmond— 'You'll never find a Jefferson Davis that 
can lick one of our Abraham Linkum's."' 



THE CROOKED TREE 125 



"THE KING OF THE STAR" OR THE 
LEGEND OF MACKINAC ISLAND 

According to an old tradition a party of Indian 
warriors were standing on the hill at the present site 
of St. Ignace, gazing out over the waters, when to 
their surprise they saw a huge object rise to the 
surface. It proved to be the island of Mackinac ; 
but it so much resembled a large turtle that the Ind- 
ians pronounced it, at the time, to be one. Its an- 
cient name Michillimackinac signifies "giant turtle." 

The island has always been clothed in mysticism 
and romance and is the very abode of legendary 
lore. Upon its rocky cliffs rollicking fairies danced, 
sang and laughed away their lives. 

It is said that after the Great Spirit had created 
the island he placed it into the care of kindred spirits 
of the earth, air and water and told them it was to 
be forever the abiding place of peace and quiet. He 
was so pleased with the place in fact that he said 
he would make it his own home whenever he so- 
journed upon the earth. 

The principal legend of Mackinac Island as related 
by the older Indians was as follows : 

A poverty-stricken old man of the North by the 
name of Osseo took for his bride a slip of a girl who 
had nine sisters all married to handsome young men. 

Her relatives laughed when they heard of the un- 



126 



THE CROOKED TREE 



usual match and predicted that this union of Decem- 
ber to May would never prove happy. 

But the girl was unmoved by their jeers and only 
replied: "I have made my choice and we will see 
who has acted wisest in the long run." 

Shortly after the marriage the entire family started 
out one pleasant afternoon for a walk through the 
wood. All the bride's sisters and their husbands 
turned pitying glances at Osseo's mate. 

"Too bad;" said the oldest, "that our pretty little 
ne-she-ma, (sister), had to marry that crippled old 
man. What a blessing it would be if he could stum- 
ble over a root and fall and break his neck so she 
could have a handsome husband like the rest of us." 

In spite of this talk the young bride continued 
good-naturedly to help her husband along as best she 
could and bestowed upon him fond caresses and many 
acts of kindness. 

Suddenly Osseo stopped at a large hollow hem- 
lock log and looking up into the sky shouted: "Sho- 
wain-ne-me-shin, Nosa" (Pity me, my father). 

Then darting into one end of the log he emerged 
from the other a handsome young brave, bearing the 
totem of the turtle. With light steps and joyful 
heart he took his wife by the hand and made his 
way to the head of the procession; but alas! she 
now was an old woman, bent and haggard, scarcely 
able to walk. 

When Osseo saw what had taken place he was 



Old Indian Trail at Mackinac Island 



THE CROOKED TREE 127 



dumbfounded and nearly crushed with sorrow. With 
bowed head he led his wife back to his former posi- 
tion in the rear of the others ; but he was very kind 
and considerate to her as she had been to him during 
the period of his own enchantment, 

After a while the party came to a lodge and 
entered it to prepare some food. When all were in- 
side, the others noticed Osseo withdraw to an open 
space a little ways from the lodge and again address 
himself to his father in the skies. Soon sounds were 
heard as of far-off music and a voice spoke to the 
young man as follows : 

"Osseo, my son, I am conscious of your afflictions. 
I have heard your prayer and therefore summon you 
to come and dwell with me in the heavens where 
there are no trials nor tribulations. Leave your earth- 
ly habitation which is filled with sorrow, pain and 
disappointments. I have listened to your entreaty 
because you were ridiculed and abused by your com- 
panions. At the hollow hemlock I overcame the 
spell that bound you — the work of an evil spirit that 
resides on a neighboring star. Never let his beams 
strike you for they are the weapons he uses to work 
his wicked designs. He has enchanted your wife 
for a little while, but be not alarmed for I will 
dispell his power over her also. Arise, my son, and 
bring all your friends with you. Here your posses- 
sions will be turned into gold and silver; joy and 
contentment will be your constant attendants. I will 



128 THE CROOKED TREE 



cloth you with the beauty of the starlight and endow 
you with the knowledge and wisdom of a great 
Manitou. Come, for the King of the Star is calling 
you to everlasting happiness/' 

No sooner were the words uttered than the lodge 
began to careen and rise into the air. Osseo's rela- 
tives ran to the door to jump out but were too late 
—already they were high above the trees. Then 
the lodge assumed the form of a cage and the in- 
mates became various birds of beautiful plumage- 
robins, blue jays, red birds, canaries, humming birds, 
parrots, orioles and flamingoes, and Osseo's wife was 
transformed into a turtle dove, the most handsome 
and lovely bird of all, called O-me-me. But she did 
not long retain this form for the King of the Star 
returned her to her husband with all her former 
youthful grace and charm. 

Osseo was then instructed to hang the cage with 
its captives at the door and to enter with O-me-me 
into the new realm to enjoy themselves forever. 
They lived on the star for many years and a son 
was born to increase their happiness. He proved 
to be a great favorite with his grandfather, the King 
of the Star, who indulged him in every way. One 
day the boy learned that shooting with a bow and 
arrow was the favorite pastime on the earth below 
and he longed for one of the weapons. So the King 
of the Star presented him with an outfit and the 
birds were liberated from the cage that he might 
try his skill. 



THE CROOKED TREE 129 



His very first shot brought down a beautiful white 
owl, but when he went to pick it up, behold ! it was 
one of his aunts with an arrow sticking through 
her heart. The moment that pure and spotless star 
was stained by her blood the spell was dissolved. 
Slowly the cage and its occupants began to sink to 
the earth. The birds again assumed their natural 
forms but were so much reduced in size that they 
resembled fairies. At last they landed upon the 
Island of Mackinac where they have since resided, 
giving rise to the name "Fairy Island/' 

In Indian they are called Mish-in-e-mok-in-ok-ong, 
or "turtle spirits/' and frequently they may be seen 
dancing on the pinnacles of the rocks and cliffs. 
Their voices may be heard at times, particularly on 
quiet moonlight nights, as they sing their refrains in 
homage to the King of the Star. 



130 THE CROOKED TREE 



SUPERSTITIONS OF THE STRAWBERRY 
AND BLACKBERRY 



After the first man and woman were created they 
lived in happiness for a time, but as all husbands 
and wives have done ever since, they soon began 
to quarrel. At last it became so unpleasant in the 
wigwam that the woman decided to leave her hus- 
band and started off toward the land of the setting 
sun. 

After she had been gone a little while the man 
sat down sorrowfully in front of his camp fire to 
think it over. Whereupon the Great Spirit looked 
into his heart and seeing that he was sad asked him 
if he would like to have his wife back again. 

He replied joyfully in the affirmative and prom- 
ised that if she were returned to him he would never 
quarrel any more. 

So the Great Spirit caused a patch of delicious 
huckleberries to spring up by the side of the woman 
as she walked along; but she passed them by un- 
heeding. Then he scattered in turn raspberries, 
sand cherries, goose berries, wortle berries and wild 
fruits of many kinds and descriptions along the 
pathway; still the woman remained untempted. Fin- 
ally as a last resort the Great Spirit created a patch 
of strawberries, the first of their kind. Upon see- 
ing them the woman immediately stopped to gather 



THE CROOKED TREE 131 



some and owing to her delay her husband had time 
to overtake her. Then she presented him with some 
of the choicest and they returned home together. 

The Indians call the strawberry Odamin, which 
means "heart berry." It figures conspicuously in 
their mythology. 



The legend of another popular berry runs as fol- 
lows : 

The prickers on blackberry vines were caused by 
the burial of a very wicked warrior who had un- 
justly tormented a rival and his intended bride. His 
victim at last left the country with a war party and 
nothing was heard of him for weeks. 

Then one day the wicked Indian appeared to the 
maiden and told her her lover was dead — that he had 
been ambushed and scalped by the Sioux. The story 
was only a fabrication but the shock so preyed upon 
the girl's mind that it caused her death. 

When her lover returned from the war and learned 
the truth, he challenged his rival to mortal combat. 
He was killed in the melee and buried by the side 
of his sweetheart. Then his friends revenged him 
by killing his enemy. The latter was buried between 
the other two graves — the reason assigned being that 
as he had come between them while they were alive, 
it was but mete that he should repose there after 
death as a continual reminder of his crime. His 
spirit seeking release from its terrible anguish strove 



132 THE CROOKED TREE 



to arise from the grave but could only cling to the 
blackberry brambles about the mounds and its wicked- 
ness produced the prickers with which these vines 
have since been covered. 



THE MOCCASIN FLOWER 



When the first union between a white man and 
an Indian woman took place, the parents of the 
bride were greatly angered. They ordered the white 
man out of the village and told their daughter that 
if she did not leave the paleface they would dis- 
own her forever. 

The husband, thus forced to leave, started away 
in his canoe in great sorrow, but his wife, true to 
her vows, followed along the shore all one day try- 
ing to call him back. As dusk came on she lost 
her way and f$ll in a faint and all night long the 
owls echoed her calls to her banished husband. The 
next day, flowers resembling her moccasins, were 
found all along her track. These are the white lady 
slippers. By her side was her babe held tightly in her 
death grasp. The Indians call them "Ko ko, ko ho 
moccasin/' which means "owl shoes." 



THE CROOKED TREE 133 



THE HANGING OF WAU-GOOSH 



Away back in the early part of the last century 
there occurred in northern Michigan a public execu- 
tion which attracted widespread attention. A scaf- 
fold was erected on Mackinac Island and a large 
crowd, numbering several hundred, assembled to 
witness the hanging of a bad Indian. The criminal 
was a bandit Ottawa who had killed many whites 
and terrorized the country about the straits for a 
generation. 

The Indians for the most part had accepted the 
ways of their white brethren and were becoming more 
or less civilized; but not so with Waugoosh, "The 
Fox," who absolutely refused to recognize his new 
masters. In his youth, his family had suffered 
wrongs at the hands of the hated invaders, and Wau- 
goosh could neither forget nor forgive. His dis- 
position was altogether different from that of his 
conquerors — his sole ambition centered in revenge. 

How many white people he had dispatched with 
his tomahawk nobody knew, but it was said to be a 
large number. When some hunter was ambushed 
and murdered, or a helpless woman attacked and 
scalped while unprotected in the home or field, the 
authorities knew it was the work of Waugoosh. The 
few sheriffs and deputies then in the region were 
authorized to capture the desperado, dead or alive, 



134 THE CROOKED TREE 



and a big reward hung over his head. Neverthe- 
less, by his native cunning and crafty plans he con- 
tinued his bloody work and evaded the authorities 
for many years. 

One of the crimes charged up against Waugoosh 
was the butchering of an entire English family that 
had sought to establish a home in the wilderness 
near Thunder Bay. The Indian killed the father 
and mother in a most brutal manner; then took the 
five young children, and, stringing them on a pole, 
hung them in the crotch of two trees. There he 
said they would dry and turn into toads, which he 
claimed would be a fit termination for all white 
people. Other acts equally as cruel filled the bloody 
pages of Waugoosh's history. 

But at last the criminal was captured by a party 
of hunters after an exciting fight in the forests of 
Mackinaw county; and in order to set an example 
to all Indians inclined to question the supreme au- 
thority of the government, it was decided to hang 
Waugoosh in the public square. 

The renegade, undaunted and seemingly uncon- 
cerned, followed the officers and hangman to the 
gallows. Just prior to the execution he was asked 
if he had anything to say. To this question he re- 
sponded in his native tongue as follows, the speech 
being translated for those present by Madam La 
Framboise who was engaged for the purpose: 

"I have killed hundreds of white people and know 



THE CROOKED TREE 135 



that I deserve to be punished. I don't expect any 
leniency; neither do I ask any. At the time I com- 
mitted these murders I did not know it was wrong; 
I thought I was doing my duty and the more scalps 
I took the happier I seemed to be. But through the 
instruction of your priest I now realize that what I 
did was very wrong. I am therefore exceedingly 
sorry and wish to say to all my people that they 
should obey the laws and not seek to kill others as 
I have done. 

''Long ago I was taught that every white man was 
my enemy; that I should ask him no favor and grant 
no quarter. Xow all this has changed. I under- 
stand this new belief. I see that the Great Spirit 
intended us to live in peace on the earth, and not 
fight nor quarrel. For all this knowledge I am 
grateful to your priest. My last wish is for the In- 
dians to be good citizens of this country which has 
passed permanently into the hands of a new race, 
no doubt for a wise and good purpose. I have re- 
pented for my sins and now I shall die happy, ful- 
ly believing that the wonderful Redeemer of the 
white man is also the Great Spirit of the Indian and 
that He will not turn His back when we ask to be 
forgiven/' 



136 THE CROOKED TREE 



WHY CAMPFIRES CRACKLE 



The Ojibway Indians thought that the thunder was 
caused by thunder birds that nested first in the re- 
gion of Lake Superior and later, after the white 
man came, in the Rocky Mountains. When these 
birds winked their eyes they made the lightning, 
and the thunder was the roar of their wings as they 
sailed through the upper regions of the atmosphere. 
They often passed overhead on their way to and from 
the ocean where they went for serpents and fish. 

These huge birds sailed so high that they could 
not be seen, but once one of them swooped down 
and caught a great hunter, who had lost his way in 
the forest, in its talons, and soared away. It took 
him to its nest on a high cliff where a number of 
the young birds began to peck the man's head. This 
so angered him that he commenced to battle with 
them and finally he overcame the flock. Then using 
the skin of one as a covering, he spread out the 
wings and sailed to the spot where he had first been 
captured, bringing with him the hearts of the young 
birds. These he put in the fire and burned up when 
he got back to his village. As they burned they made 
a crackling noise and jumped about on the coals. 
So, afterwards, whenever the fire crackled in the 
lodges of the Indians they said it was the noise that 



THE CROOKED TREE 



137 



originated by the burning of the hearts of the young 
thunder birds. 

Since then the birds belonging to this species are 
never seen, but are often heard far up in the skies. 
Their tears, as they mourn for their young, dampen 
the earth. 



138 THE CROOKED TREE 



ENGLAND'S REVENGE 



No trouble has been experienced by our govern- 
ment or any of the white people with the Indians 
of L'Arbre Croche since Pontiac's Conspiracy. That 
contest witnessed their last resort to arms, undertaken 
for the purpose of punishing the English for having 
defeated their great father, the king of France. 

The result of the Conspiracy proper, however, 
did not break their power, though it declined shortly 
afterward. What really proved to be their undoing 
has always been charged by the Indians to an act 
of treachery and revenge on the part of the Brit- 
ish. We have many times heard the rumor — it was 
a favorite topic among the older Indians. The rea- 
son the story does not appear in history is probably 
because the missionaries had abandoned L'Arbre 
Croche at that period and there was no one left to 
write the sad details. 

No doubt we can best preserve the tradition by 
relating it in the words of an old brave who told 
it to the author personally: 

"A long time ago/' he said, "a tall pine tree with 
its top branches bent toward the east, stood on the 
shore a little ways north of Good Hart and was 
cherished by the Indians as a famous landmark. It 
disappeared about one hundred years ago. Another 
grew in its place which was cut down by a bad man 



THE CROOKED TREE 



139 



fifty years later. The offender had a miserable ex- 
istence after that and died suddenly. He was pun- 
ished by the Great Spirit because the Crooked Tree 
was sacred to the Indians. All the country sur- 
rounding it bore its name of c Wau-go-naw-ki-si/ 

"At the time of Pontiac the Ottawas in the re- 
gion were as numerous as the leaves upon the trees 
and the great chieftain, who was himself an Ottawa, 
invited them to join him in his effort to drive out 
the English. Many responded to his call because 
they loved the French people and regretted their 
defeat. After the war was over the English sent 
emissaries to L'Arbre Croche with presents and in- 
vited the headmen to Montreal for a council. 

'There they gave them more presents in token 
of supposed friendship and as the chiefs were about 
to depart presented them with several silver boxes 
which were not to be opened until they reached 
their native village. 

"The chiefs cheerfully consented to the request 
and brought the boxes safely home where they dis- 
tributed their contents, consisting of trinkets, orna- 
ments and gewgaws, among their people. Soon 
hundreds and hundreds were seized with fever and 
died in great agony for the boxes contained small- 
pox germs and were sent by the English for the 
purpose of punishing the Indians for having aided 
Pontiac. That is why so many bones and skele- 
tons are found near the surface of the ground, 



140 



THE CROOKED TREE 



especially at Old Middle Milage where the first mis- 
sion was established, about a mile south of the pres- 
ent Middle Village. The Indians died so rapidly 
that they could not be properly buried and nearly 
all the survivors scattered in terror to other parts 
of the country. They came back in time, but never 
again did they regain their former prestige/' 



THE CROOKED TREE 141 



ORIGIN OF THE NAME "CHICAGO" 



Evidently the name "Chicago" is of Algonquin 
origin, The Ottawas have the word. "She-gog" 
which means " a little furred animal with a strong 
odor," commonly known as a "skunk." But grant- 
ing this to be the root of the name,, where does the 
third syllable "o" come from? 

After interviewing dozens of Indians regarding 
the matter we find the following story related bv 
Chief Ogemaw of Good Hart to be the accepted ver- 
sion : 

According to this authority,, a white man — "No, 
not exactly a white man;" explained Chief Ogemaw 
in his narrative, "but maybe it was an Irishman/" 
was trapping near the Chicago river at an early day. 
He "jumped" a she-gog, which ran to the river and 
started to swim across., but sank in mid-stream never 
to reappear. The Irishman pursued it to the river 
bank where an old Indian was pitching his wigwam. 

"What kind of an animal was that:'' asked the 
Irishman. 

"She-gog," grunted the old man. 

"Where did it go?" inquired the trapper peering 
up and down the stream. 

'The old man pointed to the river bottom and re- 
plied : 'That's where the she-gog go.'" 



142 



THE CROOKED TREE 



Although this story or variations of it is related 
by many Indians, nevertheless the writer questions 
its authenticity. He thinks it a pure invention, 
probably originating with some early trader. 

More likely the name Chicago was derived from 
the term "chica-go-e-sheeg," an Ottawa word signi- 
fying "leeks" or "wild onions/' The full name 
"Chicago" appears therein, the two last syllables 
being dropped for brevity's sake. It is said that 
there were many wild onions in the vicinity of the 
Chicago river in former times. 



THE CROOKED TREE 



143 



AN INCIDENT OF EARLY MACKINAC 



In the olden days the Indians reserved the ri- 
parian rights about Mackinac Island and during 
treaty payment times always pitched their tents and 
wigwams along the shore. It was a common sight 
to see hundreds of tepees strung along the beach, 
but the debris that resulted was an annoyance to the 
fashionable ladies of the island. 

Upon one occasion some of them went to the In- 
dian agent and made a complaint. They were so 
insistent about the matter that the agent called the 
Indians together and told them they would have to 
stop throwing their fish bones upon the beach. 

"'What do you want us to do?" asked the chief, 
"Eat the bones and all?" 

"No;" replied the agent, "you don't have to do 
that, but instead put them in bags and take them away 
with you." 

The Indians were very sullen as they left the 
meeting and it is said some were so incensed over 
this seemingly absurd request that when they de- 
parted from the island in their canoes, they threw 
the bags of fish bones inland as far as they could. 



144 THE CROOKED TREE 



LEGEND OF HARBOR POINT. 



The Indians of L'Arbre Croche were once ruled 
by a great chief who resided on the isle of Mack- 
inac, and who went by the name of Potch-i-nong. 

This great chief possessed supernatural powers 
and was greatly feared by his subjects who obeyed 
and honored him in all things. He ruled his people 
with a mighty hand and woe to him who dared 
disobey his commands. 

Besides his earthly subjects,, Potchinong presided 
over many fairy beings who came and went at his 
bidding and who made his home merry with their 
shouts and laughter. The loveliest of these strange 
beings was Wa-ka-sa-mo-qua, the chief's only 
daughter, who was as pleasant and kind as she was 
beautiful. But unlike the rest of her proud com- 
panions, she used to mingle with the people of the 
earth, much against her father's wishes. Potchi- 
nong had always boasted of his fine blood and 
bravery and said he would rather see his daughter 
killed than to have her marry among the mortals. 
He was a manitou (spirit) as well as a chief. Wa- 
ka-sa-mo-qua, however, continued her visits to the 
earth and fell in love with a young chief, Wen-de- 
ba-jig, handsome and brave, who resided on the 
mainland. 

Potchinong learned of the disgraceful affair, and 



THE CROOKED TREE 145 



summoning his daughter, told her that she must 
stop all nonsense with the young chief and thus 
prevent dishonor and disgrace from falling on the 
family. He had already given his daughter's hand 
to a noted southern Motchi Manitou who was 
wealthy and powerful like himself; but the girl was 
as bent in her inclination as her father, and would 
not hear of her marriage to this evil one. 

In vain did Potchinong interpose. Wa-ka-sa-mo- 
qua loved Wen-de-ba-jig and did Hot hesitate in 
telling her father that she intended to marry him. 

Finally Potchinong, seeing that he could not dis- 
suade his daughter, decided to have her paramour 
put to death. 

Wa-ka-sa-mo-qua learned of her father's evil de- 
termination, and when night had folded its mantle 
over the Fairy Isle, she went with all haste to her 
lover and informed him of what she had heard, and 
enveloping him in a cloud she rendered him in- 
visible and immortal. They then embarked in a 
canoe and made their way to the western shores of 
Me-ne-shance, "little island" (now Harbor Point), 
in Little Traverse bay. 

Here they lived in happiness for many moons, 
but one evening when Wen-de-ba-jig had returned 
from the chase across the bay, his canoe loaded with 
the game he had slain, he was amazed to find a 
deep pool where his lodge had stood, and upon the 
bank, smiling derisively at him, was the Motchi- 



146 THE CROOKED TREE 



Manitou. He told Wen-de-ba-jig that he had taken 
his wife to dwell with him beneath the wave, but 
promised the pleading husband that he would re- 
turn her when the island and mainland should be- 
come connected by solid ground. 

Wen-de-ba-jig at once set to work upon the task 
that would restore to him his faithful wife, for a 
manitou, no matter how bad, will never break his 
word. After many centuries of toil the tireless 
worker succeeded in making the island and main- 
land one, with the exception of the spot where the 
pool stood, which from its great depth was known 
as the "Devil's Pond," and the filling of which was 
a task beyond the power of Wen-de-ba-jig, who like 
Sisyphus of old rolling the stone forever, never 
ceased in his arduous labors. 

The Motchi Manitou's voice could often be heard 
from the pond shouting mockingly at the indefa- 
tigable toiler, and, until it was filled by the refuse 
from a saw mill that was located near by, it was 
necessary to quell his spirits by occasional incan- 
tations and the firing of volleys into the water, 
accompanied by other ceremonies of "shooting the 
devil." 

The evil spirit long since disappeared, no doubt 
discouraged by the introduction of modern ma- 
chinery and when the last load of sawdust was 
dumped into the Devil's Pond, the happy union of 
the separated couple can be imagined. 



THE CROOKED TREE 147 



THE LEGEND OF THE WATER LILY. 



The Ojibways took precedence over all other 
tribes in the richness of their legendary lore and 
traditional tales. One of their best known legends 
is that regarding the water lily. 

Once a young warrior noticed a star which 
seemed to be much brighter and nearer the earth 
than any of its companions. Upon going to bed 
the young man dreamed that the star descended 
and remained suspended in the air before him in 
the form of a beautiful maiden, who spoke as fol- 
lows : 

"I desire to live with the people of the earth. 
Show me a place where I can take up my habita- 
tion." 

The young man suggested to her a place up in 
the trees. 

"No," she said, "I would not be happy there. I 
would have only the birds for my companions. I 
would prefer to be nearer the ground where I can 
come in contact with the mortals of the earth whom 
I have learned to love." 

The young man then suggested other places, 
along the hillside, in the valleys, or by the cliffs and 
rocks. 

"None of those places will do, so I will select my 
own home." 



148 THE CROOKED TREE 



Thus saying, she descended to the water nearby 
and dropped out of sight in its depth. 

The young man in sorrow darted to the spot 
where she had disappeared, in the hopes of rescu- 
ing her. 

There he saw only a beautiful white lily into 
which the maiden had been transformed. 

These lovely flowers have ever since been found 
in and around the waters of the north. 



GLOSSARY 



A Few Words and Phrases with their Ottawa Equivalents 



Apple — Me-sheem-in, 
Ache— We-sug-e-naz-e-win. 
Automobile — Gay-jeeb-e-zood 

dob-on. 
Aunt — Ne-noo-sha. 
Ashes — Bung-we. 

Boy — Skin-ne-gish, or Quee-we- 

sance. 
Boat — Chemon. 
Butter — Zowa bimeda. 
Basket — A ko-ko-be-naw-gun. 
Candy — Ze-ze-baw-qua-donce. 
Cucumbers— Ash-kit-a-mo. 
Cat — Gaws-a-gance. 
Cow — Bi-sha-ka. 
Crying — Maw-wi-win. 
Cruel — Maw- jay yaw-wish. 
Coat — Beeska wagun. 
Dog — Mo-kaw-gee. 
Day — Keej-ick. 
Doll — Dum-min wau-gun. 
Eagle — Ma-gizzy-wass. 
Eat — We-sin. 
East — Wa-ba-nong. 
Flowing well — Mo-ki-tun. 
Flower — Wau-wass kona. 
Goat — Gitchi wa-bo-zoo. 
Girl — Qua-sance. 
Homely — Mah-nah-de-za. 
Horse — Baji-go-p-a-ji. 
Hen — Bah-kaw-qua. 
Hand — O-ninge. 
Indian — Nish-naw-ba. 
Ill — Awkozy. 

Knowledge — Ki-kane-dah-mo- 
win. 

Lover — Ne-ne-mo-sha. 
Laughter — Bop-a-win. 
Look — Naw bin. 
Man — A ninny. 
Meat — We-oss. 
Money — Show-nee-ah. 
North — Ke-way-di-noong. 
Noon — Now-o-quag. 
Owl — Koko koho. 
Pretty — Qui-nage. 



(Big 



Plum — Bugy-sawn. 
Pigeon — O-me-me. 
Quick — Way-weeb. 
Resorter— Ne-bin nish-e-jig. 
Road — Me-kun. 
Robin— Pit-che. 
Rabbit — Wau-bo-zoo. 
Summer — Ne-bin. 
Spring — Me-no-ka-mig. 
South — Shaw-wah-noong. 
Squirrel — A-jid-a-mo. 
Tomorrow — Wau-bung. 
Town — O-da-now. 
Trousers — Me-kin-node. 
True- — Dabe-wa-win. 
United States — O-da-na-win. 
Utensil — A no-cause o-win-nun. 
Winter — Be-bone. 
Well or spring — Mona bawn. 
Wood — Me-sun. 
White man — Che-mok-e-mon 

Knife). 
West — A-pung-ish-a-moog. 
Going down hill — Ne-saw-ki. 
Going up hill — O-gie-daw-ki, 
Go away — Wush-ti-ba. 
Come with me — Maw-chon. 
Hello or good-by — Bo-jo. 
Let us play golf — O dum 

no dah, ma tig gonce, 

quock ko donee. 
Do you love me? — Ki zah 

e nah? 

Let us have some fun — O sawn a 

ways e dah. 
Do you dance? — Gi neem nuck ko? 
Are you hungry? — Buck a day, 

nah? 

Lots of fun — Onona goozy win. 
A moving picture show — Ba baw 

mo say, mi zin itch i gun, ma 

mon jeen o win. 
I should worry — Dah niece skane 

dum. 

How old is Ann? — Ah nee dush, 
Ann, Ah peet ah zid? 



mm 
bah 



gay, 



War is hell — De bish ko an naw wah beshawn ne-bin. 

ma kom mig, me god a win. Be careful — Wing gay zin. 

It's a nice day — Me no ki she Good luck — Me no say. 

Sut- Rainy weather — Gim me one. 

Come again next year — Me na Certainly — Ah neen da. 



OUR INDIAN NOMENCLATURE 



Michigan signifies "a clearing" 
and was first applied to the 
( northwestern shores of lower 
Michigan where there were 
large ancient clearings. The 
Indian pronunciation is Mashi- 
ganing. 

Mackinac comes from the Indian 
word Mishinimakinang and 
means "big turtle." 

Wequetonsing — "Little bay." By 
the Indians Harbor Springs 
was and is still called Weque- 
tonsing. What is now Weque- 
tonsing resort was called Wa- 
ba-bi-kong, which means "a 
white gravelly beach." 

Petoskey — "Rising sun" or "com- 
ing light." 

Traverse City — Gitchi We-que- 
ton — "Big bay." 

Detroit — Wa-wi-ah-ti-nong. 

Chicago — "Place of wild on- 
ions," not skunk, as some 
claim. 

Grand Rapids — Bah-go-ting. 

Mississippi — "Large river," pro- 
nounced in the principal Al- 
gonquin dialects. Me-she-se-be. 

Cheboygan comes from the word 
sha-bo-e-gun-ing and means 
"going through." 

Sing gog — Harbor Point — "A 
beautiful point." 

St. Ignace — > Nad-a-way-qua-yam- 
she-ing. 

Charlevoix — Ma-daw-be Bah-de- 
noong — "A passageway down to 
the bay." 



Way-ya-ga-mug — "Round lake." 

Wau-go-naw-ki-sa — • "The crooked 
tree." This was the name giv- 
en to the country from Harbor 
Springs (Wequetonsing) to 
Cross Village. 

Ah-na-may-wa-te-going — Cross 
Village. 

Ah-pi-tah-wa-ing — Middle Vil- 
lage. 

Muckwah ne bod — "Sleeping 
Bear." 

Muckwah zeba — Bear River 

(now Petoskey). 
Muckwah ne bissing — Bear lake 

(Walloon). 
We-que-naw-bing — Bay View. 
Sheem-a-balm-a-kong — Seven 

Mile Point. 
Chippewa — Bah-go-ting — Soo rivet 

rapids. 

Ah-mik-ko--gane-dah — Beaver Is- 
land. 

Ching-walk-go-ze-bing — "Pine 
River." 

Pit-tik-way-wi-ji — "Roaring 

Brook." 
Zebewaing — Five Mile Creek. 
Menonaqua — "Fine hair." 
Tim misk o nush qua ze win — 

"Idle Wilde." 
May gwa ah qua dah da bay — 

"Forest Beach." 
Waugoshance — "Little fox." 
Skillagalee is not an Indian 

word but comes from the 

French "Isle aux Galet" — 

"Pebble island." 



OUR INDIAN NOMENCLATURE— Continued 



Good Hart — Postoffice and store 
near Middle Village, The store 
is the old government school 
building, one-fourth mile from 
The Crooked Tree. 

Bliss Farm — Me-sheem-in Naga- 
wash-ta-kwa-ko-sid — "Short 
Apple Tree." 

Burt Lake — Sha-bo-e-gun-ing. 

Crooked Lake — We-gwas-sance-ka 
ig — "Lots of little wnite 
birches." 

Lake Superior — Gitchi Guming — 

"Big lake." 
Lake Erie — Named for the tribe 

of Eries or Cat nation on its 

south shore. 
Lake Huron — From the Huron or 

Wyandotte tribe. 
Ne-saw-je-won — "Water running 

down" — A term applied to the 

chain of rivers and lakes from 

Superior to the Atlantic. 
Green Bay — Bo-gee-we-quade. 
Milwaukee — Min-newog — "A nice 

place." 

Wisconsin — Wish-konsing — "Place 

of rushes or reeds." 
Les Cheneaux Islands — Cheneau 

in French means "young oak — 

the Indians call them Nom-i- 

nung. 



Northport — Michiganing — "A clear- 
ing." 

Ludington — Na-na-da-be-ga-gan- 

ing — "Boney like." 
Grand Haven — Wash-tenong. 
Muskegon — "Fresh smelling." 
St. Louis, Mo. — Me-she-ze-bing — 

"City on the big river." 
St. Joseph, Mich. — Potta-wottome- 

nong. 

Frankfort — Ka-she-za-ing — "Fly- 
ing fast." 

Canada — Shaw-ga-nosh-king — 
"British land." 

Buffalo — Be-she-ka Wah-ka- kaning 
— "Wild Cow Country." 

Niagara Falls — Ne-beesh A-bung- 
ge-sing — "Falling water." 

Manistee — Sha-wa-noong, (south) 
A-nom-i-nit-i-noong. 

Manistique — Ke-way-di-noong, 
(north) A-nom-i-nit-i-noong. 

Mackinaw City — Gata Odanoong. 

Bois Blanc Island — Wegobemish — 
"White wood" island. 

Round Island — Me-ne-sa-sing. 

Manitoulin Island — Manitou wan- 
ing — -"Spirit lan'd." 

Quebec — Ka-bek. 

Montreal — Money-ong. 



ADVERTISEMENT 



LECTURE 

By John C. Wright 

"The Romance of the 

American Indian" 

One of the most notable addresses 
of recent years concern- 
ing the Red Man 



Don't fail to hear this Interesting, 
Fascinating Lecture 



For particulars address 

JOHN C. WRIGHT 

HARBOR SPRINGS, MICH. 



BG 1 0. 5 



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John C. Wright's Poems 

NORTHERN BREEZES 

are published as a companion 
volume to this one, in a hand- 
some vellum de luxe silk pat- 
tern cloth edition with ei&ht 
full pa&e illustrations includ- 
ing autograph and late photo 
of the author. 



Not a volume of "free verse", t>ein& 
One Dollar and Twenty-five Cents 
per copy. 

This book contains the tragedy of Kin& Strang, the Mor- 
mon Prophet of Beaver Island, and the Indian edda, Petoskey. 



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